


Turns of the Wheel

by Neon_Zephyr



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-03-10 21:58:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3304883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neon_Zephyr/pseuds/Neon_Zephyr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even after everything was said and done, Naoto probably still blamed the cat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Do not expect frequent updates on this. This is just a little fic I'll work on off-and-on whenever the married!Kannao plot bunnies strike me, as a break from other writings. I do have a general idea of where this is going, of course, and I may break it into two parts, depending on how later stuff flows with the first "arc." There are elements of that ask meme I did on Tumblr than led to this, by the by, so some of you may find these themes familiar. This will also be un-beta'd so you get to see my raw work here.
> 
> It is not meant to be much of a surprise where this is going.
> 
> (I still suck at titles. I promise this one has meaning, if nothing else. Or will, eventually.)

Cats had an annoying manner of finding ways into spaces one thought it would be impossible for them to fit. Even more annoying was how, on rare occasion, their arrogance in their abilities would stretch too far and they would find themselves entrapped in the very crevice they sought to conquer.

And, Naoto noted as she clenched her jaw and set the file back down on the desk, perhaps the most annoying attribute of felinekind was how, when caught in such a manner, they would then call rather insistently—and in high-pitched tones—for whatever humans that cared for them to rescue them from their plight.

She sighed once, before slowly pushing her tall chair from the large, oaken desk. She stood up, brushing herself off as if the action could also brush off that unrelenting meowing.

If her husband were not so attached to the blue-grey bundle of fur, Naoto would have given her to a new owner years ago. The detective held no true malice for the small animal, but she often proved herself quite troublesome. At the very least, the cat was disruptive.

Naoto tilted her head back and forth, looking around as she attempted to locate the source of the cat’s cries. Eventually, she determined that the poor beast was somewhere in the office closet. She opened the door, revealing several stacks of boxes of differing types. Most of them contained old case files and other paperwork from her job as a private detective—an ever-increasing about of them involved casework based in either Okina or Inaba. Crime had dropped drastically under the efficiency she lent the respective police departments. Foolish indeed was the criminal, petty or otherwise, who crossed the law in Naoto Shirogane’s chosen domain.

Except for one ex-stray cat.

Which, unfortunately for both of them, had managed to find herself trapped in a box that wasn’t immediately accessible to the detective. Naoto opened the box at the top of each of the stacks, musing to herself that it was really past time that she organize them again. She liked to keep everything structured, but these papers and files, well, there was something that made it oddly difficult for her. Eventually, she managed to find the source of the accursed mewling, in a plastic bin at the bottom of one of the back. She’d barely lifted the plastic lid up enough to see the light reflect off of the cat’s eyes before the blur of blue-grey fur leapt out of its darkness to cling to the woman’s shoulder.

Naoto let go of the lid with a soft yelp, but the cat didn’t move, her claws firmly secured on waistcoat’s shoulder. She was eventually able to slowly pry the terrified animal off of her, setting the poor thing on the floor.

“If you did not insist on getting into places you do not belong, you would not find yourself trapped,” Naoto lectured the cat.

She glanced back at the human, meowing once before running out of the office.

Naoto sighed.

 _And now I’m speaking to the animal as if I expect a conversation in response._ She shook her head. _Perhaps I am overworked, after all._

She started to replace the boxes she’d shifted to free the cat, when she noticed that the one that had ensnared the feline had significantly less dust on it than any of the ones around or even those that had been on top of it. In fact, upon a second glance, there was hardly any dust on it at all; the box had been moved there recently. _Very_ recently.

“Kanji,” Naoto breathed. This didn’t make sense. Kanji _never_ hid things from her. He might’ve struggled with being direct about whatever issue was bugging him, but he’d grown to be much less stubborn over the course of their relationship.

Maybe he wasn’t hiding anything. Maybe he’d just moved a box to get it out of the way.

But. Here? Under everything? It didn’t take a detective to suspect that he was hiding something.

The questions were, however, what was he hiding, and who was he hiding it from?

She opened the box, peering in to see its contents.

“Huh?”

Naoto pulled out a square of knitted yarn. The box seemed filled with similar squares of varying dimensions and colors. Naoto knew that Kanji would often knit them absent-mindedly—it was just something he did with his hands to pass the time when he didn’t have a project—but why would he hide them like—?

Naoto found that the squares only made up the top, haphazard layer of the box, pulling out something far more complete. She stared at it for a moment, running her hands across it gently.

She stood up, still staring at it in her hands as she walked from the office to the kitchen.

She’d bought the place several years ago, a little over a year before she and Kanji’d married. It had made her life easier; the building’s old storefront had been remodeled to a lobby and office for her detective practice, and the housing area had permitted enough space for her to move out of her apartment. It had also been close enough to the textile shop—just down the street on the Shopping District—to permit Kanji to move in with her officially, as he had been spending so much time—and nearly every night—at her apartment that he more or less had already done so in practice.

A year later, and they’d surprised everyone they knew by being the first ones from their group of high school friends—the Team and a couple of others—to marry. A surprise Naoto hadn’t understood—they essentially already had been, it had merely lacked the legal status and everything that came with that.

“You two just took _forever_ to get together in the first place,” Rise had said, despite Naoto’s protest that they had only been in their second year, which was sooner than—but Rise’d cut her off. “And, everyone knows you hate flashy, over-the-top… and, especially ones that….” Yes, it was true. The typical gender roles enforced in a traditional marriage ceremony did grate on Naoto’s nerves—Kanji’s too, in some ways—but it would have been trivial to alter their own; many couples had ceremonies that went against those norms. It had been the extravagance, and the financial excessiveness, that had ultimately led to them instead opting for a small private party with their friends and remaining family to celebrate the legal paperwork’s completion.

Once it _had_ been made legally official, of course, that had opened the floodgate for new sources of, admittedly good-natured, teasing from the others, particularly Rise and Kanji’s mother.

Naoto frowned, her stomach turning.

What if one of them had actually gotten to him with it? Would that explain—?

“Kanji?” She started as she entered the kitchen, still looking at the small, knitted garment in her hands.

“’Sup?” He asked, not looking away from the pan of food he was preparing over the stove. “Great timin’! Dinner’s almost—!”

“I… I found a box in the office closet. It was….” She cleared her throat, looking up at him. He’d stiffened, staring straight at the wall behind the stove. “Kanji. What is this?”

Not quite the question she wanted answered. That answer was obvious; she was holding a knitted, mint green onesie, the type one outfitted one a—

“Oh!” Kanji looked at her, the garment in question and then the wall. He set the pan of food aside, off of the hot stove. His face paled, then blushed a shade of red she hadn’t seen it turn in years. “That, uh, I musta made it fer Takeshi-chan. Guess I never—!”

“Kanji,” Naoto cut him off, “he’s nearly two; this is far too small. He would’ve had to—Rise-san brings him over often enough, I know you’d have noticed.”

It was true. Naoto and Kanji had been the first of their group to marry, but Rise and Senpai hadn’t been long behind them, and—and then a couple years ago, they’d become the first to announce they were expecting.

Kanji had gone into a complete overdrive Naoto’d never witnessed from him before. Everything had to be perfect, he’d said. He’d knitted, crocheted and sewn practically non-stop, and possibly even in his sleep. By the time Rise had gone into labor, Kanji had made her and Senpai enough clothes of varying sizes that their son would have a substantial wardrobe for at least two, if not three, years.

And, Rise almost always brought him with her whenever she visited Naoto and Kanji. Kanji’d been captivated by the small child from the first time the Team had seen him, shortly after his birth at the Inaba hospital. They’d all managed to make it; it was an exciting day for all of them, of course, even if most of the excitement fell to the newborn’s parents.

And Kanji… if Naoto hadn’t known better, she’d have suspected that Kanji and Rise _were_ somehow related, from how fascinated and attached he’d become of little Takeshi—it really was as if the Team were some sort of family. Kanji’d always liked children—despite how cruel they’d been to him growing up—and their friends’ son had become a particular soft spot. Naoto had expected Rise to be irritated or overprotective or otherwise apprehensive, but she’d actually been greatly amused at Kanji’s enthusiasm over Takeshi and always encouraged it.

“He’s quite the mother hen,” she’d told Naoto more than once. “I know that Takeshi-chan—and any child—will always be safe under his care.” She’d always add those three words while winking at Naoto in a manner that made her stomach churn the slightest amount.

“I, uh,” Kanji stammered in the present. “I must’a… must’a forgotten to give that one to ‘em. I made so many, so, uh, it makes sense that one or two fell through the….”

“There are more than one or two.” Naoto paused, waiting for Kanji to speak. His face had frozen and he seemed unable to make any noise. The box had been quite full, actually. The slowly forming idea finally took shape in Naoto’s mind. “Kanji… are you… _nesting?_ ”

“N-nesting?” He finally made his voice work again, staring at her. “W-why would I be n-nesting? Tha’s somthin’ someone pr-preg—! No! I ain’t—!” He looked at the floor. “Wh-why would… what… I mean… I ain’t….”

Naoto understood now

He was trying to hide it from himself. That, maybe, if he ignored it, the urge would go away. Naoto suspected that it hadn’t.

“Kanji.” She walked forward, placing on hand on his cheek. He looked at her, her face reflecting on the lenses of his glasses. “Kanji. I’m sorry. I know how much you want children. I… I do, too.” In a manner of speaking, at least. She was nervous at the prospect—what sane person wouldn’t be?—but she knew that, if nothing else, she did not want the Shirogane line to end with her. “I just… I’m just not ready, yet.” There was so much to do, now. Her detective work, making sure everything was set for the future, making sure that her grandfather—and Yakushiji—were well, taking the same care with Kanji’s mother—who insisted that she wasn’t leaving them before she was a grandmother, anyway….

“I know,” his voice was soft, as soft as the hand he placed over hers. “I ain’t askin’ ya ta be. When yer ready, you’ll be ready. I ain’t in a rush or nothin'; I’m still kinda amazed that we’re…. I dun know why I couldn’t… stop…. Maybe I jus’ worked myself up before, or somethin’, I dunno.”

“Maybe you should ask Rise-san for Takeshi-chan’s new measurements,” Naoto suggested. Kanji nodded, but said nothing. “What are you making for dinner?” She asked, quickly changing the subject.

“O-okonomiyaki,” Kanji stammered slightly.

Naoto paused. “May I have mine with udon?”

“S-sure!” Kanji broke from her hold to find the noodles.

Naoto looked to the side. Near the wall, the cat sat, grooming one paw.

The animal paused and looked back at her for a long moment, before trotting away.

 _If you find yourself trapped again,_ Naoto thought at the cat, _do not expect me to be the one to free you this time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I am extremely torn with how I like to ship Yu/Protagonist/However-you-like-his-name. On one hand, I've already explained elsewhere why Yosuke is an obvious ship for me (and the meta on his character included). On the other hand, I've also grown to really like him with Rise. (I'm pretty chill shipping him with Marie, too, but I feel she's still too early in her general emotional development to have a healthy relationship.) There's a pretty obvious solution, but it requires some character development on both Yosuke and Rise's parts to be pulled off in a believable manner. Dilemmas. Either way, this will be more directly addressed at least somewhat later on (though in a more minor manner, naturally, as they're not the focus here)


	2. Chapter 2

Sundays were generally a mixed bag of sorts, as far as Naoto was concerned.

On the one hand, when she was not on a case—and when the Inaba Police did not call her in on one during the morning—she was able to sleep in to a more reasonable hour. Not that she woke nearly as early an hour as she did when she was still a student on most days. Opening her office at nine during the week—and at ten on Saturdays—permitted her a much more humane sleep schedule.

Though, on the other hand, on days when she was on a case, her alarm would often have to go off at five in the morning. Six, when she was lucky, and only when she was working with the Inaba Police, never with the department in Okina or any other nearby city. Coupled with the fact that she would often not return home until midnight, or later, she would then be operating on precious too few hours of sleep. Which did nightmares to not only her general state of happiness, but led to her being incredibly irritable, particularly in the morning and as the day drug on, and wore her patience increasingly thin.

So, yes, on Sundays—particularly when not on an active case—Naoto Shirogane was quite fond of sleeping in.

The addition of having her husband’s warm body against hers, whether one or the other was holding their spouse or if they were in a shared embraced, made it quite difficult indeed to get up very early at all.

This particular morning, Kanji lay on his back, still sound asleep when Naoto found herself suddenly awake, her arm wrapped around his chest, her head nestled against his shoulder. His body moved gradually under her touch as he breathed, slowly and deeply. She snuggled tighter against him. He murmured something incoherent.

He was normally the more affectionate of them, even if it hadn’t always been that way. The first few months of their relationship he’d been utterly terrified of taking much initiative. She’d been the one to take the initiative when their relationship became more physically intimate, too, but by that point he had been far more comfortable with initiating more chaste contact. Never in public, and rarely even if they were just with their close friends. But, when they were alone, he was much braver, now. A hug, a kiss—just as often on the cheek or forehead—a gentle caress of her neck or forehead. Naoto didn’t have to say so much as a single word for him to know that she appreciated every single one.

After a long moment, he grumbled something again. This time, she was able to comprehend her name and something about… the phone?

Naoto wondered what his dreams were like. He hardly remembered them, except for the more… unpleasant or confusing ones. Which, naturally, she was disinclined to ask about very often.

Kanji was suddenly woken—making a loud hacking sound—by something small and dark leaping from the floor and onto his stomach. He sat up, coughing several times as he regained his breath, breaking from her loose grip. Cool air replaced the new lack warmth against her side.

“Wh’s the damn fire!” Kanji barked, glancing around. He eventually looked down to see the cat seated on his stomach. He cursed under his breath, earning a meow. He picked the blue-grey cat up with both hands, placing her gently back on the floor. “C’n ya ‘xplain ta her ‘bout Sundays?” He grumbled, lying back down on his side. Facing away.

Naoto frowned. She wrapped her arm around him again, pulling herself close against his back.

“I believe it has already been established that our feline companion does not prefer to listen to my requests.”

Kanji rolled over to face her, eyes still shut, placing one hand on the side of her head.

“Shhh. T’early fer yer wordy talk. Sleep.”

She was half-tempted to make a reply with even more excessive vocabulary in response; he was more than capable of at least grasping the general idea of what she was saying at any point in time by now. Even when half-asleep.

“Isn’t this the week we’re having dinner with your mother?” Naoto decided to take the middle ground. “I can’t recall. If she’s coming here, then I’ll need to reorganize the office—”

“Shit!” Kanji sat upright again, this time completely awake. “I forgot! Gotta call ‘er!” He stumbled out of bed, nearly falling over from his foot being tangled in the sheet. The force of the blankets moving dragged Naoto with them across the bed a few centimeters. She heard a soft yelp.

“Well, don’ stand there!” Kanji scolded the cat, who continued to paddle after him as he tore out of the room, meowing repeatedly at her human the entire way.

Naoto blinked at the now empty doorway for a long moment, before lying back down on her back.

Twice a month, they would have a Sunday dinner with Kanji’s mother, once at their home, once at hers. When a case didn’t get in the way. All too often, one would. And, once every several months, she would be able to talk Kanji into taking a Saturday off and an early Friday to make the trip to spend a weekend at the estate with her grandfather and Yakushiji.

The less surviving family one has, the more important time with each member is, they both knew all too well.

Meals at the estate still had an air of formality about them; her grandfather simply had a very professional air about him at all times. Naoto was the only true exception. Even Yakushiji was never treated with the level of familiarity that the slowly aging Detective Shirogane reserved for his final remaining blood relative. Kanji had been… more than unnerved the first time she’d brought him with her on a visit.

A fair enough reaction, considering they had only been teenagers, still on the threshold of adulthood, at the time.

Regardless, he was always far more relaxed when his mother shared a dinner with them. Unless she teased him in some manner or another, getting him—or both of them, depending on the topic—Naoto recalled one particular evening when his mother’d joked about “getting out of their way” when she had to leave early with a blush nearly as heavy as the one they’d shared at the time. He could, even now, still get quite flustered.

Which was usually only worsened when she assured him that it was actually rather charming.

Naoto sat back up with a lethargic yawn, before dragging herself reluctantly out of the warmth of the blankets—which was already significantly lessened due to her husband’s absence—to stand up. She staggered her way out of the room and into the kitchen.

“Uh-huh,” she heard him say into his cell phone. “Y-yeah, see ya then.” He hung up.

“Your mother?” Naoto asked, gratefully lowering herself into one of the dining table’s chairs.

“Can’t hide anything from you.” He grinned. “Happens when ya marry a detective, I guess.”

“It was hardly a difficult deduction,” Naoto said. She stood up again, walking over to him.

He looked at her, head tilted and one brow raised.

“Were ya wearin’ that last night?”

She smiled. While she had a fair amount of her own pajamas, she would just as often forgo her own sleep shirts for one of his—her particular favorites included the purple long-sleeved skull sweatshirt, the Grim Reaper black tank top, and a short-sleeve grey T-Shirt with a green flame design on it. That last one was her choice this morning, along with a pair of her own blue satin bottoms—ones that Kanji had sewn for her himself.

She hummed in the affirmative, placing a hand his shoulder and gently nuzzling the side of his neck.

“I could refresh your memory, if you’re having difficulty recalling on your own.”

“Uhh…!” Kanji inhaled sharply. “I—! I-I-I—!”

“It is particularly cold this morning…” Naoto murmured into his ear.

“C-coffee!” He stammered, jerking back out of her loose grip. “I-I’ll make ya coffee with yer breakfast! Th-that’ll help.”

Naoto hummed again.

“M-Ma’s comin’ over,” Kanji continued. “Early. Wants ta help make dinner t’night.”

Naoto wrapped her arms around him in a hug, pressing her head against his chest.

“Yer awfully affectionate this mornin’,” Kanji pointed out. “H-how ‘bout some breakfast, yeah?”

She released her hold on him, before joining him in preparing a lighter breakfast than normal. Kanji enjoyed combining elements of Western and Japanese cuisine in a number of their meals, especially breakfast. It provided a challenge, he’d explain, finding what elements of each cooking style mixed well with the other, which tastes complimented each other and which ones… did not. Naoto had been a fast student, working with him, even gradually learning how experiment and otherwise deviate from recipe a little bit. This morning’s breakfast thus consisted of miso soup, toast, folded omelet—similar to the tamagoyaki he often made for their bentos—and a small bowl of cut melon.

And, as promised, he’d brewed her a cup of her favorite brew of coffee—the chocolate raspberry one—mixed with just the right amount of cream and sugar. She’d never really taught him, he’d just more or less… observed as she’d mixed her own over the years.

Despite what their teachers in high school seemed to think, Kanji was actually quite aware and observant of details.

Kanji didn’t join her at the table right away, due to the cat’s unrelenting insistence that it was time for her morning meal as well—a fair complaint, Naoto decided, as they had still slept in later than during the rest of the week. When he did take his own seat, Naoto was nearly done with her own meal, though she would often finish her food more quickly, regardless of any difference in portion size between them. It wasn’t as if she didn’t enjoy taking her time. It was an old habit from work—and less so from their school days—to aid in being efficient with her time; less time spent eating meant more time spent working.

“You okay?” Kanji’s voice broke through her thoughts.

Naoto blinked at him, before taking the last bite of her toast—

—and suddenly realizing she’d absentmindedly dipped it in her coffee.

She coughed twice, before managing to swallow the final bit of her meal. Naoto nodded.

“I am fine.” She stood up, gathering her dishes to take to the sink. “I suppose it would be preferred if I changed into something more presentable before your mother arrives?” Her voice held the lightest hint of amusement.

“Least yer wearin’ a shirt,” Kanji pointed out, motioning to his own bare chest. He never wore one to bed anymore, true enough, though he would—on particularly cold nights—wear a tank top. Otherwise, he generally just wore a pair of cotton pants, like today’s in dark green, or just his boxers during summer months. He’d worn shirts—and, she suspected, layers—when they’d first started spending nights together; they hadn’t graduated yet at the time, and said nights were quite uncommon then, so Kanji had likely been just as nervous and terrified as he’d been excited and enthusiastic. Like most of their relationship, the awkwardness there had worked itself out, with some mutual effort, as time had worn on.

Of course, that was when they wore clothes at all.

“I am certain that your mother is not offended by the sight of her own son’s chest.” Naoto kept that tint of amusement in her words.

Kanji laughed, but said nothing as he worked on his own breakfast.

Naoto started towards the bedroom, stopping in the kitchen doorway. She turned back, one hand on the frame.

“What did you need to call your mother about?”

“Huh?” Kanji looked up from his glass. “Oh. I had some questions fer Ma ‘bout dinner t’night. Makin’ sure we had everythin’ we’d need, that sorta thing.” He paused to take another bite. “Why?”

“Natural detective’s curiosity,” she said with a smile, before turning back around.

She wondered briefly if it would be cold enough to justify wearing one of her argyle sweaters, instead of her usual choice of dress for dinner with Kanji’s mother.

 

…

…

 

Kanji had managed to stop knitting random squares during the short wait before his mother arrived to aid in preparing their dinner for the night.

Instead, however, he was now absentmindedly knitting an endless length of varying colors, far too long to be a scarf, randomly picking a new skein of yarn when each ran out. The cat found this to be of great amusement, batting at the growing length and rolling about in it. At one point she’d even wrapped what was accessible to her around herself in a sort of cocoon against Kanji’s leg, taking a brief nap in it. He’d instinctively pet the top of the cat’s head with one hand a few times, but Kanji had otherwise apparently observed nothing, staring at the turned-off television as he knit at an almost alarming rate.

“Kanji-chan?” His mother’s voice snapped him out of his trance.

“Huh?” He looked up at her. The cat leapt up onto his lap, meowing at her. “Oh.” He set down the needles. Was it that late already? “H-hey, Ma.”

“Hello, dear,” she said, picking up the short-haired, blue-grey cat. The small animal rubbed her face against the woman’s neck in greeting. “Are you working on a new project?” She was wearing a dark green yukata, a pair of half-frame glasses, and her graying hair pulled back in its usual bun.

“Huh?” Kanji repeated. He looked down at the odd, knitted length. “Nah, I’m just… ya know.”

His mother blinked at him for a moment, before smiling. She set the cat down, before looking back at her son.

When she didn’t speak right away, Kanji rolled up the length of hastily knitted yarn—wow, was that almost two meters already? He really needed to find a more productive project—and stood up.

“So, uh,” Kanji started, rubbing at the back of his neck, “N-Naoto’s in the office. Chie called ‘bout something, ‘round ten minutes ago. Want me ta…?”

His mother shook her head.

“No, let’s not interrupt her work. Besides,” her smile widened slightly, “we can surprise her this way. I recall you mentioning her last case was… particularly frustrating?”

Yeah, that was putting it mildly. Something about a murder, a sensitive divorce of a CEO, and embezzling from a high-ranked employee. Among other details that had often got lost in storms of angry words, during the grand total of three times Naoto had been able to come home during that entire two weeks.

And Kanji thought _he_ had a foul mouth; but, get Naoto worked up—no sleep, not enough coffee or food, and work her like that long enough—and the torrent of cursing that came forth had actually made him blush on more than one occasion.

Kanji nodded. He really hoped that Chie was calling her about some local kids vandalizing or something else minor. Something simple and low-stress. Something she could properly cool down with. Ever since Chie had made the Inaba Police Force—the first woman officially assigned to the department as an officer—she’d actually been the one to call Naoto in, more than Dojima.

Actually, Kanji noted to himself as he led his mother into the kitchen, the new school year was starting up in a few weeks. Nanako would be starting her… second year of high school? Kanji could hardly believe how fast she was growing—he still sometimes had to remind himself that she wasn’t the seven-year-old little girl that the Team had grown so dearly attached to. No, now she was sixteen—would be seventeen in October—and, much to her father’s mixed amusement and worry, completely oblivious to how half of her classmates seemed to be pining after her, regardless of gender.

It was rather fitting, of course, that it was Naoto that she would still often visit for advice.

Kanji cleared his throat.

“So, uh,” Kanji started, “ya said ya had something special in mind?” He hoped that this wouldn’t mean her insisting on cooking a small feast again. He remembered the first time he’d had Naoto over for dinner with his mother after they’d started dating—and less than a week afterwards, too, he never could keep much from his mother—she had insisted on cooking enough to cook three people, all right. If those three people _all_ had the appetite of Kanji. Naoto had a larger appetite than one might think from looking at her small frame, but she still ate maybe about half as much as Kanji in a single meal. His mother ate even less. Add in her social anxieties involving the whole situation, and poor Naoto had been totally overwhelmed.

His mother had managed to not over-prepare quite on that level again—he still suspected that she had simply been happy, proud, and excited for the both of them, as she’d good-naturedly teased Kanji about the idea for months beforehand—but that didn’t mean that Kanji wasn’t still nervous about it sometimes, even now, years later.

“Hmm?” His mother hummed from the fridge. “Nothing terribly fancy, but yes.” She looked up from the door at him, while he started pulling out his favorite pan. “Kanji, dear, would you happen to have any honey?”

Kanji nodded. With as much tea as they drank—especially Naoto? Absolutely, they always had a ton of honey in the house. She didn’t mainline it quite as much as coffee, but between the two of them there was a significant need for honey for tea alone.

The smile she gave him at that had that familiar knowing look behind it. She was planning something. She had to be. That made him nervous. He’d already made sure—during their conversation on the phone this morning, along with his other questions—to ask her—beg her, really—to _not_ mention grandkids during today’s visit. Or for a while. Not after the other day.

It was true; he wanted kids. Almost desperately. He didn’t care if they had their own or if they adopted. He wanted the chance to help make the next generation better, to do right where life had done him—and Naoto—wrong, to make sure that the pains and loneliness they’d both suffered growing up didn’t happen again, at least for one kid. To raise someone with the same love his own mother—and father, when he’d been alive—had given him, and the same love he knew Naoto’s family had given her.

But, he knew she wasn’t ready. She was scared, too. Not that he wasn’t scared. Scratch that, he was terrified. What if—no, he didn’t want to think about that right now. His ma wanted him to help her make dinner. And, apparently from the sugar she was pulling from the cupboard, dessert.

For now, he’d focus on the shrimp and fish and vegetables on the counter and the frying pan over the stove. And not that smile on his mother’s face.

 

…

…

 

Kanji tapped on the office door with one hand. He heard Naoto’s voice grant permission before he entered.

She was sitting at the large, oak desk in her tall, leather chair. She was dressed in a simple, white buttoned shirt, a dark waistcoat, a bright blue tie, and black dress slacks; her chest was bound today. Her pen was still pressed against her lip in thought. Her glasses from their days on the Team were on the desk nearby, making Kanji almost wish she was wearing them.

It was almost a clichéd sight—hell, it _was_ —but it was also kinda adorable. Not that he’d ever say so to her face. She was a hardboiled, cool, collected detective. She would insist that, as such, she was absolutely never _adorable_.

And he never had the heart to say that, when she said that with that indignant expression, she was only more adorable, like a kitten puffing itself up. In part because he knew she’d only get _really_ pissed off, and in part because he didn’t want to dampen that spirited passion, even for only a moment.

She looked up from the files in her hand, glancing at her laptop’s screen before looking back at her husband—still clad in his apron and an oven mitt—her eyebrows raised in concern.

“I apologize; I hadn’t realized it was so late already. I presume you and your mother have—?”

“Y-yeah, dinner’s ready, if you are.”

“I had intended to assist with preparing—”

“Naoto,” Kanji cut her off with a smile. “’S cool, promise. Ma was kinda a storm t’day, anyway.” He didn’t want to tip her off that his mother was acting like she had some sort of secret; if he was just being paranoid, saying something might only make Naoto alert to something that wasn’t even there. She needed to relax, not get worked up again, especially after her last case.

Plus, if his mother _was_ acting weird, Naoto would likely catch on quickly. She usually did.

It was her job, after all.

“So, uh,” Kanji started on their way to the kitchen and dining room. “Whatcha workin’ on today?”

“Hmm?” Naoto seemed lost in thought for a moment. “Ah, Chie-senpai called, asked me to look over some files for the Inaba Police, give them a second point of view on a few things. Don’t worry, I’m just a consultant on this particular case; I highly doubt they’ll call me in.” She paused, continuing when he didn’t respond. “That is your concern, is it not? Particularly after the last case I worked on.”

“Nah,” Kanji said with a light chuckle. “I’m just amused that ya still call the others ‘senpai.’ We ain’t been in school fer years, and ya ain’t that much younger than Chie now. ‘N fact, yer kinda her superior officer or somethin’ now, right? She’s only been a cop fer a couple a’ years now, and ya’ve been a detective since we were kids.”

Naoto laughed softly. It wasn’t a sound many people got to hear, but Kanji loved it as much as very other part of her voice.

“Force of habit, I suppose,” she said as she took her seat at the table. “Tempura?” She identified the deep-fried food that lay on top of her wide bowl of rice. “Did Kanji mention I had been craving tempura for the past week or so?”

In fact, he’d been waiting for some better shrimp to come in at the store to make it; if there was one thing he hated, culinary-speaking, it was using sub-par ingredients. Especially when it involve making something special for his spouse, no matter how common the dish technically was. He’d just picked up the shrimp yesterday.

Kanji’s mother shook her head.

“Call it a mother’s intuition,” she said, still smiling.

“Perhaps you should have become a detective, as well.” Naoto gave her a smile of her own, before turning her attention to her meal.

Kanji noticed that, among the pieces of fried shrimp and fish, there was a single pickled ume place atop her rice. And, there wasn’t one on his—understandable, he didn’t like mixing the flavor with most deep-fried foods—and there wasn’t one on his mother’s either—even though he knew she _did_.

It wasn’t unusual for her to dip the pickled fruit in the tempura sauce, either; Naoto would often combine tastes Kanji didn’t quite understand.

What unnerved him was how his mother smiled through the whole meal. It shouldn’t have, the conversation was pleasant enough—even when Naoto explained her last case—but it did. He knew that smile. It was the same one she’d worn when he’d stumbled home after he and Naoto had first decided to give a relationship a shot, right before she asked if Naoto would be over for dinner after school on that Saturday.

He couldn’t keep much of anything secret from his mother, whether he tried or not, but she still managed to remain a mystery to him.

She was planning something, his gut told him, but he couldn’t even begin to guess what. His concern distracted him, leading to both women finishing their own meals before he did.

“Kanji,” Naoto’s voice broke through to him when his mother stood up to return to the kitchen for a moment. “Are you all right?”

“Hmm? Yeah,” he said, as his mother returned with the dessert: a small sponge cake with small bowls of honey to pour over or dip it in.

The conversation turned to talk on some of the new businesses that had tried to take hold in the Shopping District—the latest attempt at a music store hadn’t done well, probably due to not being very accessible to the local students—while Kanji’s mother watched her child-in-law devour her share of the cake with every drop of her offered honey.

And, the part that bothered him the most was how Naoto didn’t seem to notice at all—or was at least completely unfazed by it.

He tried to tell himself that Naoto had noticed and was just keeping her usual poker face, She was a detective, after all. She did it all the time, while interrogating a suspect. She had to notice, right?

Maybe he was just being paranoid. But, this was his mother he was talking about. Who knew what the old hag was thinking?

 

…

…

 

Kanji lay awake that night for a while, waiting for Naoto to join him in bed. She often spent hours at night going over different files. She was meticulous. She said that it was something that the case that had first brought her to Inaba had taught her; sometimes the one clue towards the solution of a case was a single sentence uttered by a suspect—or by someone they weren’t even considering as a suspect.

But, she was supposed to be on a cooldown period. It worried him, how she would lose track of time—and thus sleep and food—like that. She’d worked herself sick more than once; the first time he’d had it proved concretely to him was just a few weeks after he’d moved in. He’d gotten her to promise afterwards to be more careful, to take better care of herself; she’d improved, but she could still get so lost in her work that she didn’t even realize how many meals she’d missed, or hours of sleep. He did what he could to help—send the occasional text or call, make sure that he packed her a solid lunch that would help her get through larger gaps between meals—but he still worried.

Sometimes it irritated her, making her feel like he was treating her like a child. Other times, it amused her, and she reacted with affection—creating more than one reason he greatly preferred those times.

Tonight, Naoto eventually came back in, nearly one in the morning, stumbling slightly. Kanji nearly leapt straight out of bed to his feet to help steady her.

“You a’right?” He asked.

“I just felt slightly dizzy for a moment,” Naoto said. “I am likely simply tired. There’s no cause for worry.”

Not that it would keep him from worrying anyway. He always worried about her.

“Can you assist me?” She looked at him, shrugging her shoulders.

“’Course.” He helped her out of her several layers of clothes and her binder. She shivered. “Cold?” He asked, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“A little,” she admitted. “I’m a bit… sore as well.” She added, slipping into a set of light blue cotton pajamas. “Your mother seemed particularly pleased at dinner today.”

So, she _had_ noticed. Of course she would have; this was Naoto. There was a reason those who had gotten over their bigotry about her biological sex were saying that she was on her way to being the best detective to come out of the entire Shirogane family line.

“Yeah,” Kanji said. “She seem weird ta you?”

“I cannot say for certain.” She followed him into bed. “I am not very attuned to the subtleties of her facial expressions or emotions. You have known her over twice as long as I have.” She paused as he nestled his head against her chest, just below her collarbone. She wrapped her arm around him, running her hand through his hair once before gently tangling her fingers in the black strands. “Did her behavior seem peculiar to you during dinner? Or the preparation?”

“Not really,” he said slowly. “It’s more like… she knows somethin’ or other. Kinda like how….”

Now, that didn’t make sense.

“It’s like what?” She asked.

“Kinda like the day we, uh, st-started goin’ out,” he said. “Or, whatever ya wanna call what we were back then.”

“At first I thought you had told her,” Naoto said. “It made sense; I never expected you to keep it from her, not even in the beginning.”

“Was gonna, though. Keepin’ it from our classmates made sense, ‘course, and we didn’t want to get the Team or the others’ hopes up if it hadn’t… took.” There had been other fears, too, from both of them, but their sort-of secret relationship hadn’t stayed secret for long. At first, it was just Kanji’s mother—who had somehow figured it out the moment Kanji’d come home—and a couple of others. But, the secret got out relatively quickly. It hadn’t helped that half the school—hell, half the _town_ —had been waiting for them to figure it out for months.

“I’m glad those fears turned out to be for naught.” She played with his hair absentmindedly.

“Yeah.” Kanji turned gently out of her grip to look up at her. He grinned. “Wasn’t the only fear we got over, together, either. Me, ‘specially.”

Naoto ran both hands through his hair. She smirked.

“I’m not wholly certain to what you’re referring.”

Kanji chuckled, sitting up.

“How ‘bout I remind ya?” He smirked back. He could almost imagine his past self blushing and stammering at the very idea. “I can do it without any a’ yer fancy words, too.”

She reached for his face.

“You like my _fancy words_ ,” she murmured.

She gently pressed her lips against his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I'm not gonna get explicit in this one, guys. 
> 
> Kanji's mother knows things. She always knows things. (Yes, this fic may just be an excuse to dump a bunch of my headcanons into something with a generally cohesive plot. Also an excuse for fluff.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. I hadn't originally intended to have kinda dark Yosuke headcanons. 
> 
> Oops.
> 
> Also, for anyone that doesn't read my other stuff, I headcanon that Kanji and Naoki would reconnect around the time that Yu leaves Inaba (if not just shortly after the serial murder case's end) and that Naoto would sort of join them as a trio (before her and Kanji started dating).

“Oh,” Naoki blinked at the sight of Rise answering the door of the Shirogane residence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “Uh, I thought K-Kanji and I had—”

“Oh, Naoki-kun!” Rise said brightly. “You’re fine—I just dropped by! Oh!” She blinked suddenly. “I guess it’s Naoki-san, now, huh?” She chuckled nervously.

Naoki shook his head.

“Naoki-kun’s fine.” _Naoto-kun_ _still calls me that, anyway._

“Rise!” Naoki heard Kanji shout from inside. “Tha’s prob’bly Naoki. Let ‘im in, would ya?”

Rise gave him another smile, before standing to the side to let Naoki walk in. He gave the woman a nod as he did so.

Naoki kicked his shoes off awkwardly, unsure what to think—or even feel—about Rise watching him. Especially considering who he’d just talked to less than an hour earlier.

The tension was eased a fair bit when he saw Kanji lying on the drawing room floor, Rise’s two-year-old son seated near his head, pulling the man’s black hair into tiny bunches in little, colorful bands.

“Are ya makin’ me all pretty, Takeshi-chan?” Kanji asked, a silly grin on his face.

“Kan-tan pretty,” Takeshi said softly, emphasizing each syllable. He patted Kanji’s head delicately with one hand.

“Yeah,” Naoki said with a smile as he walked up to them. “Kanji-chan is very pretty now, Takeshi-chan.”

“Naoki!” Kanji sat up, careful to not knock over Takeshi. “H-hey!” He scratched at the back of his neck. “S-S’up, man?”

The both turned slightly as Rise walked over and picked up her son.

_Almost two years old_ , Naoki noted, _and I can still hardly believe that Rise-san and Yu-san are parents_.

The thought suddenly left a bitter taste in his mouth.

The toddler certainly looked far more like his mother than his father, right down to the still-short copper-brown hair. The one trait he had—at least right now—that was undeniably Yu’s was his eyes, a warm grey that always held a calmness behind them.

“Le’s be honest,” Kanji said, pulling the bands out of his hair. “This ain’t the most embarrassin’ thing ya ever walked in on me with.”

“It’s not that embarrassing,” Naoki said with a smile. He sat down on the couch.

“I’ll be right back,” Rise said. The guys nodded once, before she carried her son with her out of the room.

“So,” Naoki took the opportunity to speak quickly. And quietly. “Rise-san’s in town. Is Yu-san back, too?”

“Yeah,” Kanji said. “He’s visitin’ his uncle an’ Nanako-chan right now.” He frowned slightly. “Rise jus’ stopped by with Takeshi ta….”

“Have you told Yo—Hanamura-san?” Naoki stared at the floor.

“Of course.” Kanji sat down next to his friend. “The old gang’s havin’ our yearly meetup t’morrow.” He shifted uncomfortably.

“I, uh,” Naoki rubbed at the back of his neck, “just saw him. Before I ended my shift.”

“Yosuke was at yer place?” Kanji looked at him.

“Yeah.” Naoki hesitated. “He swings by every so often. Apparently a day or two before… meetups.” It wasn’t his concern, wasn’t his business, yet he was worried. Yosuke and Naoki hadn’t become close, by any means, but they’d gradually formed a sort of awkward friendship over the past several years.

Especially now that they had something in common.

“Wha’d he want?” Kanji asked. Pointless question; they both knew the answer already.

“A particularly large bottle of our weakest sake.”

Kanji groaned, rubbing his face with one hand.

“He never could hold his—”

“I think he plans on drinking the whole thing tonight.” Naoki said.

Kanji shook his head.

“Nah, he ain’t.” He stood up again. “Guy’s upset, an’ fer understandable reason, but he ain’t gonna make it worse by givin’ himself a bad hangover on top of everything.”

Naoki sighed.

“It’s a bit of a mess, huh?”

“Dunno,” Kanji said with a half-shrug. “Guess so. Yosuke won’ really talk ‘bout it.”

Naoki nodded once, but didn’t say anything. He made a mental note to call Yukiko or Chie and have them make sure that he didn’t make himself sick. Or worse.

Not many outside their gang—and him—knew that Rise hadn’t exactly been Yu’s first relationship.

“So!” Kanji turned sharply, causing Naoki to practically leap to his own feet. “D-dinner, yeah? Omelet cool? And…stuff?”

“Yeah,” Naoki said. “Sure.” Whatever Kanji made, it was guaranteed to be even better than anything his mother ever had. _The only reason Naoto-kun isn’t fifteen kilograms heavier is because she still eats like bird. Just like back in school._

Another light jolt went through his gut. Softer, gentler than it had been, almost unnoticeable. But, it was still there.

Kanji stiffly walked out of the drawing room, towards the kitchen.

As if summoned by the thought of her, Naoki heard the front door opening and closing to announce the return of the resident detective.

After a long moment, Naoto came in the room. As usual, she was dressed sharply, today opting for a long-sleeve white dress shirt under a dark blue argyle sweater vest, her chest firmly bound.

“Oh,” she looked at Naoki, “hello, Naoki-kun. I’d forgotten that you and Kanji had planned on….”

“Rise-san’s here, too,” Naoki said. “With Takeshi-chan.”

“They arrived early,” Naoto pointed out, “as usual.” She smiled softly.

Naoto started to walk towards the kitchen, before she stumbled slightly. Naoki leapt over towards her, ready to help if she started to fall.

“I’m fine, Naoki-kun,” she shot him a tired but amused smile. “It has simply been a long day.”

“You aren’t eating enough, again, are you?” Naoki smiled.

“Don’t tell Kanji that.”

“Never.” Kanji’s reaction would probably be to cook a feast every night and pretty much shove it down her throat. Man was the biggest mother hen Naoki’d ever met.

He could only imagine what he’d be like as an actual father.

Another jolt ran through him. This one he ignored.

He followed her to the stairs, still nervous about how unstable each step she took was.

“Naoki-kun?” She turned back to him. “Would you please send Kanji up to help me with… er, something?”

“S-sure.” Naoki nodded once. He waited until she was up the stairs and out of sight—if she’d so much of stumbled after he’d turned around, he’d have never forgiven himself—but then quickly walked to the kitchen.

“Hey,” Kanji greeted him again. “Whadaya want with yer omelet?”

“How about some—?” Rise started, seated at the small dining table.

“No!” Both men shouted instantly.

Naoki hoped that Yu didn’t let her “help” with the cooking very often, for their son’s sake. The woman’s obsession with spice and other bizarre foods was bound to kill someone someday.

Naoki remembered—with an amused smile—how Kanji had told him that Yu always looked a little terrified when he’d been in town around Valentine’s. Even before they’d started dating, from that first year in Inaba, Rise had always given him homemade chocolate of some sort.

_At least we were able to save Nanako-chan’s cooking skills,_ Kanji had said more than once.

Kanji had never talked about his own Valentine’s, which Naoki found himself rather appreciative of. Naoto would give each of their friends a small piece—or sometimes a small bag—of handmade, if simple, chocolate, regardless of the friend’s gender. She would just say that they were each important to her—not just Kanji. Naoki pretended he didn’t notice, but his chocolate—while still generally simple—was a little larger and held the slightest more detail than, say, Yosuke’s or Teddie’s was each year.

Kanji never said anything about it, though he certainly knew by now. Naoki was thankful for that, honestly. There was no jealousy or tension between them, and the three of them were still as good of friends as they were in school.

Naoki wanted it to stay that way.

He’d seen firsthand what happened if things got… messy.

“Fine,” Rise said with a light shrug. Takeshi shifted in her lap as his mother ran her hands through his hair.

“I’m cool with—actually,” Naoki cut himself off, “Naoto-kun wants your help with something. Upstairs.”

“Oh?” Rise smirked.

Kanji and Naoki both shot her a glare, but otherwise didn’t respond.

“I can take over for a minute while you help her with… whatever’s up,” Naoki offered.

Kanji hesitated, glancing at the pan—he’d picked up a little of Naoto’s perfectionism over the years—but nodded once, standing aside to let his friend assist with dinner. Naoki took the pan handle in one hand; it’d been a while, but he vaguely remembered his mother’s secret with this one. He might even have a shot of surprising Kanji, for once.

A slim hope, but it would be more than worth it if it happened.

“I can help, too!” Rise said enthusiastically.

“No!” Naoki and Kanji both glanced at her again, before the latter slipped out of the room.

“You guys have as boring of palates as ever,” Rise sighed. She turned Takeshi around gently to face her, lightly pinching his nose once. “You still love Mommy’s cooking, don’t you, Take-chan?”

“No!” Takeshi said brightly, raising one hand in the air. His mother blinked at him.

Naoki forced himself to focus on the pan of food in front of him, if only to hide his amused smile.

 

…

…

 

Naoto flipped back and forth through the small notebook planner.

This didn’t make sense.

She stood up.

“Did I forget to mark it down, or…?”

It wouldn’t have been the first time.

She stumbled slowly over to the small table—she’d promised Kanji that they wouldn’t keep a desk in their bedroom, so that she’d actually sleep at night. She ruffled through the small piles of papers—mostly letters from their friends and her grandfather—and even lifting the cat up off one to put her out of the way on the ground.

Like his father, Takeshi was already deeply enamored of cats, and always wanted to pet theirs whenever Rise brought him over. The feeling was apparently not mutual; Ruka had taken to hiding before the child even came through the front door. The blue-grey cat still refused to leave the safety of the bedroom, now leaping up onto the bed and burying herself under the blankets and out of sight.

Normally, Naoto would be amused—and possibly even sympathetic—but today she had other things on her mind.

Finally, she found the full-sized calendar—filled with photos of various ruins around the world, it had been a mildly grudging Christmas gift from her otherwise estranged maternal grandmother—and she flipped back and forth between the current month and the two months prior. She noted a few, cryptic markings on the earliest month, but the previous month was completely blank.

_Over a month_. She frowned. _Making this… the second…._

_I’m jumping to conclusions._ She shook her head. _There’s always a logical explanation for things._

A soft hum in her head reminded her that it was certainly a logical explanation that—

She nearly ran into the master bathroom, flinging open the cabinet door under the sink. She rummaged quickly through the various boxes and bottles.

_Damn it._ How could they have run out without her noticing? It wasn’t as if she frequently used—

_Calm down, Shirogane_ , Naoto forced herself to sit back and take a deep breath. _Just… call the doctor in the morning. Regardless, I was planning on doing that, anyway._

She sat there for a long moment, caught off-guard when Kanji suddenly materialized in the doorway between the bathroom and bedroom.

“You ‘kay?” Kanji asked. “Naoki said ya—”

“Kanji.” Naoto hesitantly raised one hand. “Would you kindly assist me? I seem to be having some mild difficulty with my knees today.”

Kanji took her hand, gently pulling her to her feet before grabbing her shoulders for support.

“You all right?” He repeated.

“I am certain that I am fine.” She nodded, not looking at him. “I am likely simply picking up something from the office. Chie-senp—Chie-san mentioned that there was a… bug going around with the other officers.” She paused. “I should probably keep my distance from Takeshi-chan for the night, just to be cautious.”

“Rise’ll understand,” Kanji said softly. “How ‘bout ya lie down for a bit? I’ll send ya dinner up when it’s done. I know ya don’ wanna miss tomorrow.”

_Yes_ , a bitter aftertaste formed in the back of her throat. _It will be nice to see the others again. Even if Yosuke-sen—Yosuke-kun and Yu-kun are still… tense. So long as Yosuke-kun doesn’t arrive hung over. Again._

Maybe she should take her respite as a chance to give him a call, make sure he was all right. Not that she had any clue what to say to her friend.

She would call Chie, have her help him out, but there was apparently still some awkwardness there, too.

_Though, at least there’s no outright tension left. And Chie-san had only been angry for less than five minutes._

It had been the first time the Team had ever witnessed Yosuke skillfully _not_ shove his own foot in his mouth and actually be sensitive and mature.

Maybe she should call her, anyway.

_If nothing else, maybe she can keep him from drinking himself sick. Again._

“Naoto?” Kanji’s voice brought her back.

She leaned her head lightly against his chest, before nodding.

“Can you help me? Walk to the bed, I mean.”

Kanji simply nodded, before doing as requested. She nearly collapsed onto the bed, managing to remain upright through sheer force of will. She glanced behind him, checking that the door was closed, before starting to pull her sweater off. She froze when lifting her shoulders resulting in a jolt of pain down her spine.

“You okay?” Kanji asked again.

She nodded, before realizing he might not be able to see it through the half-upturned garment.

“I… appear to be sore, as well.” _It could still just be a flu; aches are common, especially around joints and the neck. It would also explain my exhaustion._

_That’s it. Influenza. The doctor will likely confirm as such and suggest I rest for a few days._

_I’m supposed to be taking a break from casework, anyway._

“Want me ta help wi’ that?”

Naoto hesitated before agreeing softly.

Kanji helped her pull the sweater the rest of the way off, standing nearby while she continued to take off her shirt, undershirt, and binder. She hissed sharply after the last, rubbing gingerly at her skin.

“Sore again?” Kanji asked, sitting down on the bed behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, waiting.

“Please,” Naoto said with a nod.

Permission granted, he began to gently massage her back. She wished he’d put a little more pressure into it. She made a mental note to talk to him about it later—when she wasn’t quite so stiff and her muscles didn’t ache.

When he released her, she let herself fall backwards the rest of the way onto the bed, brushing by her husband in the process. There was a soft, trilling meow and the lump in the blankets shuffled towards the head of the bed. Naoto muttered something incoherent and half-sarcastic at the cat.

“Woul’ ya like a shirt?” Kanji looked up at the ceiling. His ears were tinted pink.

_All this time,_ Naoto permitted herself a soft smile, _and he chooses_ now _to become bashful again?_ She nodded once.

Kanji stood up, rummaging through a drawer before lightly tossing a shirt in her direction. She pushed herself up again and picked it up, taking a look at it before slipping it on: his old, purple skull sweatshirt.

“A bit self-serving, isn’t it?” Naoto smiled at him, pulling on the shirt.

Kanji looked away, clearly hiding his faux-innocence. She could just barely make out the corner of his smirk.

“Kanji,” she said softly.

He turned to her again, wrapping one arm around her and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I gotta go back an’ finish dinner,” Kanji whispered, releasing her and standing back up. “If I don’t, Rise’ll sabotage it with ‘er crazy spices. An’ prob’bly kill Naoki in the process.”

“I certainly don’t want to ruin our annual reunion by being called in on the murder of our friend,” Naoto said with a smirk of her own. “Especially with another friend as the prime suspect. Plus,” she chuckled, “I don’t think Dojima-san would be very pleased if we had to arrest his niece-in-law.”

“I dun think I’ve ever heard the term ‘niece-in-law’ before,” Kanji chuckled.

“Go,” Naoto waved him off, “rescue our dinner and our friends.” She had to fight the temptation to remind him that her grandfather often called Kanji his “grandson-in-law”—accurately, naturally, though equally as endearing. “Actually,” she sat further upright, “it’s a ludicrous home remedy, but… would you be so kind as to send a small bit of wasabi with my dinner?” If nothing else, it might help with her sinuses if she _was_ coming down with a flu.

“Sure,” Kanji said with another nod, before he slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Naoto fell back onto the bed again. She took a deep breath. She hoped that dinner didn’t take long—which, knowing Kanji, would really only be possible if Rise distracted him or otherwise caused a mishap.

_Yu-san must have a rather interesting home life_ , Naoto thought to herself with a smile for the umpteenth time.

A soft meow signified the reemergence of the cat from under the covers. Ruka gingerly walked over to Naoto.

_Please, don’t_ , Naoto recalled the cat’s weird obsession with walking or sitting on people’s chests. _Not tonight, please._

Instead, however, the cat decided to curl up on her stomach. Her blue-grey form became a warmth, round bundle, her purring vibrating against the exhausted detective.

 Naoto sighed, before reaching down and giving the small animal a gentle pet.

 

…

…

 

Kanji wasn’t thrilled about the idea of meeting up at the park, on the top of the hill, instead of their usual place at the Junes food court. But, Yosuke had mentioned something about there being a big sale, and the food court wouldn’t exactly be a great place for the first of this year’s meet-ups.

Though, he’d had a point; it wasn’t as if half the Team was returning to town from elsewhere this year.

Yu and Rise would be in town for two weeks this year, an unusually long visit for either of them. Chie was still around as the first female officer on Inaba’s police force. Yukiko was working to take charge of the inn—and, according to Chie, doing a kickass job. Teddie was living with Yosuke in an apartment nearby—the latter couldn’t bear to move back in with his parents after—

And, of course, Kanji and Naoto had chosen to remain in Inaba for the textile shop. Though, Naoto was away often enough on a case that the reunions weren’t always easy to schedule.

Yu and Rise weren’t living all that far away, to be honest: just on the opposite outskirts of Okina. Yet, over the past several years, it had become harder and harder for them to make regular visits together.

Not to mention, there was the fact that the entire Team tried to pretend that they hadn’t noticed that Yosuke and Rise hadn’t spoken to each other directly since….

Kanji sighed.

_At least Naoki and me are still cool,_ he sat forward on the pavilion bench. _And he and Naoto are still cool, too._ It hadn’t always been easy, but they’d managed to stay friends since the summer they’d started hanging out as a trio. They’d managed to keep Naoki in their lives, to keep him from feeling left behind or forgotten or replaced.

At least, Kanji really hoped that Naoki hadn’t secretly felt that way, and just hadn’t said anything.

He sighed. It was too bad Ayane had left Inaba for music school and never really moved back. Their old classmate seemed to have had a bit of a thing for him back in the day—though, she would have likely moved on; she had apparently had a crush on Yu before that.

Naoki seemed to be good enough friends with Aika, but Kanji knew that she typically preferred women over men.

And, this was nuts to begin with. What right did he have to try to hook his friend up with someone, even out of good intentions?

Plus, it was kinda messed up to only consider women—

—Agh, he had to stop that.

Naoto walked up to him from the nearby path. She was dressed in a much looser, light blue buttoned shirt than usual, especially for this early in the year, and a dark green tie with her usual black slacks. In contrast, he was dressed in a lavender T-shirt, a loose, hoodless, black cotton jacket, and jeans.

“The others haven’t arrived, yet?” She asked.  

“Nah.” Kanji shook his head. “Yosuke said that he and Ted were gonna show up with Chie and Yukiko in a bit.”

Naoto nodded. They both knew that it was probably better that way.

“Did Rise-san say if…?”

“Nanako-chan doesn’ have school t’day,” Kanji said, “so she’s watchin’ Takeshi-chan with her dad.”

“That’s probably best.” Naoto nodded again.

“Did’ja get ta see the doc?” Kanji changed the subject. He’d been relieved when she hadn’t asked him to go to the hospital with her that morning; he still hated hospitals. Always would.

Naoto nodded.

“The doctor said I don’t appear to be catching the flu from the precinct.” She rubbed at her arm, over her sleeve. “They took blood for… some tests. I should get a call sometime today or tomorrow, when… the results… come in. The hospital’s lab currently has a… short queue, so….” She cleared her throat. “Until then, the doctor didn’t want to… prescribe any medications. For a number of reasons.”

“Ya feelin’ better, at least?” Kanji asked.

“I should be,” she smiled, “once we can get something to eat.”

Kanji chuckled.

“Kanji!” A familiar voice shouted from down the path. “Nao-kun!”

Naoto and Kanji turned to see Teddie running towards them, dressed in a bright orange T-shirt—probably inherited from Yosuke—and his work pants; the human-appearing bear-like Shadow had proven to greatly enjoy his job at Junes. Apparently, he often volunteered for significant amounts of overtime. Yosuke didn’t complain much, saying that the extra income helped the both of them.

When the four others joined Kanji and Naoto at the pavilion, Kanji noticed that Chie and Naoto exchanged a look and a nod. And that Yosuke didn’t seem too hung over—though he still looked more tired than usual.

_At least Chie was able to stop ‘im from doin’ somethin’ stupid._

Kanji just wished he knew what to say. Part of him wanted to hit Yosuke, to tell him to grow up and stop acting like a maimed dog. But.

If Naoto had suddenly broken up with him, shacked up with Naoki in less than two months later, and then married him within a year—with a kid on the way not too long after—well, Kanji couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t have been messed up for a long time, too.

Especially with how much Yosuke had struggled to even come to terms with….

Kanji sighed. It was a mess. All he could do right now was not pick sides. And, of course, to not let anyone take out frustration on Takeshi. Even Yosuke had said that he liked the little kid—he’d been one of the Team members at the hospital the night the kid was born—just that… it hurt.

_Maybe we can work together—the Team—and try ta start with fixin’ things between them._ Yosuke had been there for Kanji when he’d started dated Naoto, when he’d been scared and confused about what was expected of him. And Kanji had been there to help Yosuke when he’d been terrified and struggling to figure out his own crush on his best friend, on figuring out his own sexuality.

If nothing else, the look Yosuke and Yu exchanged when the latter had arrived with his wife was at least civil.

It still broke Kanji’s heart to see the two like this, after how close of friends they’d been, even before they’d—

If nothing else, Yukiko was still able to break the tension by laughing at something Chie had said. As usual, Yosuke dryly pointed out that it hadn’t even been funny, which only led Yukiko to laugh even harder.

In fact, Kanji almost hadn’t noticed—when they’d stopped at Souzai Daigaku for lunch—when Naoto had stepped aside to answer a phone call.

_The doctor_ , Kanji remembered. Maybe the test results came in? That would have been really fast, though. Wouldn’t it?

What tests were they running?

He watched her from his seat as she answered her cell. After a long moment, she looked confused, spoke once—probably asking to repeat what she’d just heard. A split second later, and he could see her eyes widen, mouth opened a bit, and her face paled. She stumbled backwards a step.

_What the hell?_ Kanji stood up. _What did the docs find?_

Panic seized Kanji’s chest.

This was why he hated hospitals.

“Kanji-kun,” Chie’s voice caught his attention. He looked at the woman, still dressed in her uniform. “Everything all right?”

_Dun bring attention to it,_ Kanji thought to himself. _Her pride will never handle it if somethin’s up and the gang gets all sappy at ‘er._

_‘Sides, I dunno wha’s actually goin’ on._

“Everythin’s fine,” Kanji said with a nod and a smile. Maybe a little forced, though, and Chie simply looked at him for a long moment, before turning back to the conversation between Yukiko and Yu with the others.

_Damn cops,_ Kanji frowned. _They always seem ta know when yer lyin’. It’s what I get fer makin’ friends with a cop’s nephew. And a girl who became a cop._

_And fer marryin’ a detective._

In fact, for someone who used to be a bit of a delinquent with a far worse reputation—which had been hard to shake from people’s minds—he _did_ seem to surround himself with a lot of people in law enforcement.

No one said anything when Naoto rejoined the group. Kanji caught her eye, and the look she gave him was very clear.

_Later_.

Well, at least it wasn’t something life-threatening, then. She’d make some excuse to go home, to tell him and handle the situation, if it were. Right?

Right?

Either way, Kanji couldn’t focus the rest of the meeting. In fact, he didn’t even realize how much of a trance he was in until after he and Naoto’d returned home.

As usual when he got like that, she’d broken it by taking his hand in hers. He felt the cool, metallic band of her ring against his fingers. He looked down at her.

Her eyes were clear but blank. Impossible to read.

“S-So.” A direct approach was the best place to start. He knew that from experience. “That call ya got before… that was the hospital, yeah?”

Naoto nodded, before letting go of his hand. She ruffled her hair, her face paling again.

“What…?” He cleared his throat. “What’d they say? I-I mean… did they… did they find somethin’?”

Naoto nodded. She stumbled to the drawing room couch, collapsing onto it. She wasn’t looking at him, staring at the floor instead.

_Whatever it is, it’s really got ‘er spooked._

She undid her tie, wrapping the length of cloth back and forth around her fists.

“Naoto?” Kanji sat down on the couch next to her. “It’s not like… cancer or somethin’, right? It ain’t gonna… yer gonna…?”

She placed one hand on his knee, but still didn’t look at him.

“No. And, it’s not likely I’ll… die from it. It’s a possible outcome, of course, even now, but I highly doubt I would suffer any complications that would cause….” She exhaled slowly.

She ran her hands through her hair. At least, as best she could with the tie still wrapped around one.

“Naoto?” Kanji breathed.

Then, she said one of the most terrifying things anyone had ever said to him.

“Kanji, we need to talk.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not expect the next chapter as quickly as this one.

“Kanji, we need to talk.”

“O-okay,” Kanji said with a slow nod. “Wha’s goin’ on?” He shifted on the couch, looking at her.

Naoto continued to wrap and unwrap the tie around her hand. She inhaled slowly, before exhaling just as slow, her breath hissing through her clenched teeth. Her face was paler than Kanji had ever seen it before. She glanced at him, before staring at the floor.

“Naoto, ya gotta talk ta me,” Kanji placed a hand on her far shoulder. “Please, tell me wha’s—!”

She suddenly turned to face him, wrapping both arms around him to pull herself against his body in a firm hug.

_What the hell_? Kanji’s chest froze. Not that Naoto couldn’t be affectionate—sometimes she was _incredibly_ affectionate, to the point that he occasionally wondered if she’d hit her head or something—but never in a situation like this, where something was upsetting her. At least, not with so little to inspire such a reaction.

Something was wrong.

“I love you,” she whispered into his shoulder, before pressing her face against the side of his neck. “I love you, Kanji Tatsumi,” she repeated.

Something was _definitely_ wrong.

“Just… please, Kanji. Promise me that, no matter what decision I make, you’ll support said decision. That you’ll understand how difficult a choice it is, regardless of the outcome I decide on.” Her entire frame trembled against him.

“Naoto!” He grabbed her shoulders, gently but firmly pressing her back and away. He used his thumb against her jaw to coax her to look at him. “What the hell is goin’ on? Please, just tell me.”

“Kanji….” She started, before looking down again. “Kanji, I’m….” Her voice softened, barely audible. “I’m pregnant.”

It took a moment for the words to register.

“Huh?”

“The blood work says I’m about… six to eight weeks.”

“Pregnant?” Kanji echoed. “Ya mean—pregnant? Baby? B-baby. Pregnant? With baby?”

“That is the primary meaning of the term, yes.” Naoto looked up at him without raising her head, her voice still just loud enough to hear.

“You’re… pregnant.” The concept finally seemed to sink in. “H-how—?”

She looked directly up at him, one eyebrow raised.

“O-okay,” Kanji chuckled nervously, “I know _how_ , but…. How? I m-mean. We’re… always….”

“Kanji, nothing is one-hundred percent infallible.” She looked away. “B-besides… we were… less than diligent around… er, around the time of conception.”

_Conception._

The word echoed in his head.

Naoto was pregnant.

Kanji felt floored all over again.

Naoto was _pregnant_.

Whatever decision she made…? But, what—?

That was right. Naoto wasn’t ready to be a mother. She’d stressed that just last week. And, there was no way she’d carry a child just to give it up at birth.

It wasn’t a procedure she could just go down to the hospital for, of course. She’d have to make a trip overseas, maybe to Europe. She had a couple family members out in England, still. That’d make for an easy cover. He would go with her, if she wanted, of course. She’d want everything… discreet.

And, yet. Her words implied she hadn’t _decided_ yet. So….

Kanji nodded once. He looked at her.

“What…. Whadaya wanna do?”

She blinked at him for a long moment.

“…I don’t know,” she eventually said. “I… can’t decide.”

“Okay.” Kanji exhaled.

“On one hand,” Naoto continued, “we have a safe, stable home environment, promising careers that have only strengthened in their security over the past several years, we’re both healthy and mentally sound, and we have a strong support system of friends and family to help and advise us.” She took a long breath. “But, on the other hand, I am frequently called away to work—even when I’m still in Inaba or in Okina, I’m still away from home most of the day—and can’t always be around to…. And, I don’t think I’m ready. Or,” her voice dropped so low that Kanji had to lean in to make out her words, “maybe I’m just scared.”

Kanji wrapped one arm around her, pulling her close against him and kissing the top of her head.

“’S all right if yer scared.” His own arms were trembling around her. “I… I am, too. I think any sane person woul’ be.”

_What if I mess up_? The dark question rose in the back of his mind again, and he knew that it was in Naoto’s, too. Though, probably wordier, knowing her.

“Rise-san never demonstrated any apprehension regarding her own pregnancy during its duration.”

Yeah, Naoto was definitely terrified. She hadn’t been this wordy in such a tense moment since…

…Since back when they’d first decided to try a relationship.

“Yeah, well,” Kanji tried to chuckle, “I did say a _sane_ person.” He sobered. “Plus, I know she had her moments, too. She just didn’t, uh, broadcast them.”

Naoto blinked at him.

“I suppose,” she said quietly. “She always _did_ prefer to put up a… front.”

“A-and… uh,” Kanji hesitated again. “For… for what it’s worth… I’d be more than willin’ ta stay at home. I can do a lotta work from here, and worse-case, the shop’s just down the street.” There was a heavy silence, before he hastily added. “Not that I’m tryin’ ta pressure ya, or anything! Just… makin’ sure that… that ya have all the… info ya need or… or want.” He cleared his throat.

“To make the most informed decision possible.” Naoto nodded. “…I appreciate that. I truly do.” She pressed her forehead against his chest. “I’m sorry. I just… I just don’t know.”

Kanji ran his free hand through her hair, before kissing the top of her head again.

“Take yer time. This is yer choice. I’ll support whatever ya choose. Promise.”

“Specifically, I would have until the end of the first trimester, should I choose to….” She coughed once. “That would require time to plan and… execute said plan. As a result, I should likely make a decision relatively quickly.”

Kanji nodded.

“Jus’ make the one that ya feel is best fer _you_.”

Naoto took a long, slow breath.

“You’re right.”

Kanji didn’t speak again for a long time, simply sat there and held her, occasionally running his hand through her hair, and reflected.

Naoto was pregnant. She hadn’t immediately decided outright to not keep the baby. There was a chance she might. There was a chance she would choose to become a mother. That they would become parents. That he would be a father.

In less than nine months—less than eight, she’d said she was between one and two months along—they could be parents. There could be a child. _Their_ child.

Holy. Shit.

They could be _parents_.

A chill settled in his gut. He tightened his grip on her.

All the life-threatening situations they’d ever been in, and it was the idea of their family _growing_ that had him more scared than he’d ever been before.

 

…

…

 

If Kanji hadn’t slept well that night—and he hadn’t, taking until early morning to finally pass out, one arm draped around her waist—then Naoto hadn’t slept at all. She’d actually cursed, repeatedly and bitterly, when the morning alarm went off.

She understandably had had too much on her mind.

If nothing else, she was thankful that the wasn’t suffering from nausea. Yet. Her delay in noticing her… condition meant that, no matter what choice she made, there was a good chance she’d experience morning sickness.

In the meantime, she’d asked him to make an excuse—maybe that flu Chie had mentioned previously—to the Team, and chosen to take the day off. She needed to think, to try to figure out… what she wanted.

It wasn’t as if she didn’t want to be a mother—someday. She just… always thought that “someday” meant “later.” And it did. Until now. When she got that phone call, when it became _real_ , not some nagging voice in the back of her head, then “someday” suddenly became “today.”

And she didn’t know what to do.

Despite the early start it had gotten in her adolescence, her career was still young. She was finally starting to make real progress; the novelty of the child detective had worn off, fittingly around the time she’d graduated high school, but the voices of her supporters were starting to truly drown out those of her detractors. And, their bigoted voices were very loud, indeed. It had helped that she was quite excellent at her job. A prosecutor in Okina had offered numerous times to pay for a lunch or a drink, stating that his conviction rate had skyrocketed since the local Police Departments had started to call her in on more cases. She’d always declined, for several reasons, but it had proven how well she was really doing. She didn’t want to halt that progress now. Not to mention, even though Kanji was more than able to serve a more at-home role, even when she had to travel for a case, she would still be under a lot of pressure from various sources to leave her career to focus on…. And, no. She wouldn’t do that. It was asinine.

Yet, she also knew herself too well by now. She would always simply decide that her career needed to develop more, or that she was in the middle of too many cases that required travel—she’d had to travel to both Russia and Spain in the past five years, even if only for less than a week each. Even if she had later opportunities—and, knowing her and Kanji, they most certainly would—she couldn’t promise herself that she wouldn’t just continue telling herself “later” and putting it off.

It was that mindset, that fear of addressing something that would change her life completely, that had kept her from even admitting her own feelings to herself for the man who had eventually become her husband for months.

And, she hadn’t been wrong before. They were financially stable. Kanji was more than able to always be around, if not at, home—just like he’d said. They were both mentally and emotionally sound. They had a strong support system, between their friends and remaining family. They were certainly able, despite still being only in their mid-twenties, to provide a safe and nurturing environment to raise a child in a loving, healthy manner.

Naoto sighed, pulling on a simple, loose outfit.

But, what if she wasn’t ready? How would she know when she was? There wasn’t exactly a checklist she could go down. She’d already concluded that she was capable of providing for a child, and comfortably so—a blessed luxury that not many of their peers could easily boast. But there was a difference between _providing_ for a child and truly _raising_ one.

Naoto needed advice, or she would simply be thinking like this is circles over and over until she missed her deadline or, more likely, simply gave up and made the theoretical trip. There weren’t a large number of women she knew very well who were already mothers, however. It mostly boiled down to Rise and Kanji’s own mother—Naoto’s maternal grandmother was out of the question and her paternal one died shortly after her parents did.

Rise was out of the question. For one, she wasn’t ready to tell any member of the Team about the pregnancy, only in part due to her uncertainties; Kanji had promised to not say anything in the meantime, as well. But, Rise was… excitable. And, she was still relatively new to motherhood. Takeshi was almost two, that was true, but he was also _only_ almost two. Naoto wanted someone with significantly more experience to help her. Not to mention, she suspected that Rise would never condone the option to end the pregnancy, should Naoto decide to take it.

Kanji’s mother, on the other hand, had always been completely supportive. She’d never once treated her with any sort of… judgment. The older woman had always supported the young detective’s decisions and choices, even if they went against societal expectations and norms. Even when she didn’t quite understand, Naoto knew that her mother-in-law would always be there for her, utterly and completely.

So, before she’d even made the choice consciously, she was on her way down the street, through the Shopping District and headed for Tatsumi Textiles.

“Naoto-kun!” Kanji’s mother greeted her warmly, standing up as the young detective entered the shop.

“Good morning, Tatsumi-san!” Naoto gave a polite nod. “Are you busy at present?”

She shook her head.

“I have a customer coming over this afternoon to pick up an order, but I have nothing planned right now. Is something wrong?” There was a brief pause. “I recall Kanji mentioning that you had plans, with the rest of your old school friends?”

“I… had to decline for today.” Naoto looked away. “I have… other concerns to attend to at the moment.”

“Oh?”

The woman certainly had a way of inspiring complete honesty from the young detective, even when she’d rather play things a little closer to the vest.

“I was…” Naoto started, approaching the storefront tatami. “I admit I had hoped you would be willing to… grant me some… insight and advice on….” Naoto trailed off, looking down. She exhaled sharply.

“Of course, dear,” the woman said. Naoto looked up at her. “Please, take a seat.”

Naoto slipped out of her shoes, kneeling on the tatami next to her mother-in-law, the both of them facing the door. Naoto opened her mouth to speak, but found her suddenly unable to decide where to begin.

After a long moment, however, the older woman decided to get the ball rolling herself.

“Kanji has never told you much about his father, has he?”

“I know some things,” Naoto said. “But, he has not been particularly keen on divulging individual stories in… excessive detail, no.” She’d always suspected it was out of respect for her own loss, and a well-meaning if misplaced worry of making her jealous that he had any true, solid memory of his father.

“He was always a quiet, but firm man, solid in his convictions, if not always able to voice them properly or clearly.” She smiled. “Kanji seems to have inherited _most_ of his father’s traits, whether he’s willing to admit to it or not.” Her face sobered. “He was several years younger than me. I was the last of my friends to marry, actually. My family was beginning to worry that I never would. It was with a bitterness at my situation that I spent a rather excessive amount of money on commissioning a yukata for the summer festival. I had only met the men that had worked on said commission a handful of times, so needless to say, I was quite surprised when he’d approached me at the festival.”

“What did he say?” Naoto asked when she’d paused for a long moment.

“He apologized, actually,” the older woman chuckled, “saying that he had done me a disservice. He said that even though he’d considered the yukata the best he’d ever made, it simply did not compare to the one who had ordered it.” She smiled to herself for another long moment. “We were married before the following year’s festival.”

Naoto didn’t speak, uncertain what to say. Or, if she were even expected to say anything.

“No one questioned it at first,” Kanji’s mother eventually continued. “After all, we were both quite busy with learning everything we’d need to know to take over the shop from his parents one day—a day that came all too soon—and I had to learn it all from the very beginning. I could hardly repair a loose button when I’d met my late husband.”

_And now_ , Naoto noted, _you run the entirety of the shop essentially on your own, training your own son to follow someday._ She silently hoped that that day was still many years off. _Kanji often laments that he’ll never have half the skill you show in your craft._ He was wrong, of course. He simply lacked the decades of experience she held.

“So, it didn’t concern very many in the town that we were continuously childless. Even when all my childhood friends were mothers, with their firstborns only a few years from adolescence.” The older woman exhaled slowly. “What they didn’t know—and Kanji still does not—was that we were gradually beginning to fear that we were barren.”

Naoto blinked at her. She’d known, even before she came to Inaba, that Kanji had been born later in his mother’s life than the local average. It had been in their files, when she’d first taken the case and suspected Kanji or his mother would be the next one involved. But, somehow, she’d never considered—

“Kanji was not the first pregnancy, either.” His mother’s voice lowered, to the point that Naoto had to strain slightly to make it out. “He was simply the first—and only—to progress enough that we had even announced it to our remaining families. Twice before, however, I… suffered miscarriages. I had begun to believe that I simply could not carry a child to term. We had tried everything we could think of; various forms of medical assistance were becoming more and more accessible at that time, but we still could not afford it, not with a shop to run. By ourselves.” She was quiet again, before a small smile gradually formed on her face. “When Kanji was finally born, my husband went to the Shrine every day for over a month to thank every god and cosmic force he could think of, even ones he hadn’t believed in. By some miracle, Kanji was not only born, but born healthy and strong from the beginning.”

Naoto stared at the ground. Now she _really_ had no idea what to say. Or to think.

Or what to do about _her_ —

“Somehow,” the older woman kept talking anyway, “I knew from even before the doctors had confirmed the pregnancy, from before I finally carried through the first trimester, that my child—this child—would be born. And live. And be as healthy and strong as he’s grown to be.” She chuckled softly. “My late husband was so happy when I… that he made a particularly large castella with honey. He’d never been much of ones for sweets before that day. And, he was certainly amused when I’d apologized that his lunch didn’t have his favorite pickled ume for weeks; I had unwittingly eaten the whole jar, when I was up late one night.”

Naoto looked at her.

“Castella?” She echoed. “With honey?” _But…._

The older woman’s smile widened.

“How far along are you?”

She knew. She’d known, even before Naoto had even suspected.

She _always_ seemed to know everything that was going on. She’d known almost immediately when Naoto and Kanji had started dating. She’d once admitted to knowing Naoto’s gender from their first meeting, though still having respectfully joined the rest of the town in their acceptance of her initial, male persona. Naoto even suspected that she’d known, if only vaguely, that the Team had been involved in the protection of the town during the serial murder case, and a couple of other incidents shortly thereafter.

And, now, she already knew that Naoto was pregnant.

The young detective looked back at the floor. She tried to find her voice, but couldn’t.

“I presume you were less than prepared?” Kanji’s mother asked.

Naoto froze, before she slowly nodded.

“I am aware that you were planning on waiting a few more years before you and Kanji had a child.” She straightened a slight crease in her kimono. “I am also aware,” she added in a low tone, “that you have the means to discreetly terminate the pregnancy, should you prefer to continue to wait.”

“I do not know,” Naoto finally was able to speak, her voice raw, “if I am ready to… become a mother.”

“Oh, dear,” Kanji’s mother surprised her by placing a single hand on Naoto’s shoulder, “no one is ever _really_ ready to become a parent. Over a decade of trying, and I still certainly wasn’t.”

_And, you ended up having to raise Kanji on your own for half his childhood_ , Naoto remembered with a pang of guilt.

“I did not tell you any of this to try to convince you to decide one way or another.” She released her daughter-in-law’s shoulder. “I know you came to me for advice on this situation. While I can tell you anything you wish to know about my own experiences, I also know that they are solely _my_ experiences. You will never be able to truly judge any aspect of your life by those of mine because _it is your life_. I know that Kanji will always support whatever you believe is best for you. And, so will I.” She took another long breath. “The only real advice I can give on this is to do what you know in your heart will make you happiest, not just today, but in the long run as well.”

Naoto nodded, but didn’t speak for several minutes.

“May I stay,” she asked, “for just a short while longer?”

“Of course, Naoto-kun,” Kanji’s mother said warmly as ever. “You are always welcome; stay as long as you need.”

 

…

…

 

Naoto still hadn’t made a decision when she’d rejoined the Team’s reunion meetings the next morning.

She _was_ saddened to have missed the unexpected meet up with Dojima and Nanako, though.

If nothing else, Kanji seemed to have managed to not give anything away. Chie had apologized, saying that it was probably her fault for spreading the cops’ flu to her, but Naoto had simply waved it off.

So long as she could evade that nausea for a few hours, their day would surely go relatively smoothly.

If nothing else, it was a pleasant enough day at the river. Even Yosuke appeared to enjoy himself, for once, despite his cursing and ranting when he’d been forced to help Teddie from fishing himself into the Samegawa and ended up landing a particularly large trout right on top of them.

Even Yu had laughed when the young man began to chase the blond bear-Shadow along the riverbank, somehow brandishing the still-very-much-alive and wriggling fish in his hands.

“Poor thing,” Yukiko had said, between waves of giggling.

“I just hope that he doesn’t end up wasting the fish,” Chie had added, shaking her head. “That’s actually a pretty nice-looking trout.” She’d then looked at Naoto. “Inaba doesn’t have a license fee, still, right?”

“You’re the police officer,” Naoto had replied with a smirk. “I just find criminals _after_ they commit their infractions.” She’d paused. “Though, I’m certainly not going to report anything.”

Especially not this week.

In the end, Yosuke released the trout back into the river before it could suffocate.

“Poor thing deserved a better end than that,” he’d said, shoving his hands in his pockets and avoiding everyone’s eyes. “Besides, I hate fish.”

Between his hatred of fish and inability to eat tofu—Naoto still didn’t know if it was an allergy or if he simply couldn’t stomach it, as his dossier when she’d been working the serial murders had absolutely nothing about his dietary habits in it—the young detective wondered how the guy didn’t have a much higher appreciation of other meats.

_Perhaps all that time with Chie-san wore it out, too_ , she eventually smiled to herself.

The others didn’t seem to notice—or, at least, they didn’t say anything if they had—but Kanji had hardly spoken the entire day, and had mostly kept his sentences rather short when he did speak. He also didn’t speak the entire walk back home that evening, even when Naoto had surprised him by gently taking his hand—something that she very rarely would do in public, even discreetly.

“So, uh,” Kanji finally spoke after they’d closed the front offices behind them. “I gotta feed Ruka, then, h-how ‘bout I start some dinner? Any-anything ya want in particular?”

Naoto sat down on the drawing room sofa, sighing as she sank into the cushions.

“Surprise me,” she eventually said.

The cat meowed softly as she leapt up onto the detective’s lap.

“Ruka,” Kanji called as he went into the kitchen. “Dinner.”

The cat ignored him at first, choosing to look up at her human’s spouse instead. Her piercing blue eyes locked with Naoto’s gaze.

_Strange,_ Naoto thought to herself. _She normally saves any real affection or lasting attention for Kanji. Especially when there is also the prospect of food involved._

The cat looked away, before rubbing her face against Naoto’s stomach, purring loudly.

_Does_ she _know, too?_ Naoto stared. Animals were often quite smart, especially ones like cats, and it wouldn’t surprise Naoto if there was some hormone involved.

Ruka turned sharply, staring towards the kitchen.

_Kanji must be opening her food, now_. Naoto smiled. _Now_ the cat was certain to leave.

Except, she still hesitated, looking up at Naoto again. After another long moment, she meowed once, loudly, before finally leaping off of the detective’s lap and bounding off into the kitchen.

_Be decisive_. The thought lingered in her head. _Make a choice, and remain resolute._

She stood up and took a deep breath.

It wasn’t an easy choice, but… she knew what she was going to do.

Now, to follow through with it in a way that her pride wouldn’t let her waver on.

She walked into the kitchen.

“Kanji?” She started softly.

“Yeah?” He asked from inside the freezer, pulling out packages of what looked like ground beef.

“I… er, I need to go and… make some phone calls. Before dinner.” She paused, looking at the floor.  “Is that all right?”

“Sure.” She could hear the tension in his voice, and his failing attempt to hide his emotions, even without being able to see him.

She wanted to say something, to make things right, but she knew that it wasn’t the time. Not yet. She had to do this, make sure she’d stick to it, and then….

She took a deep breath, before practically sprinting upstairs.

She didn’t even bother closing their bedroom door all the way before sitting, legs crossed, on their bed and pulling out her cell phone. She exhaled slowly, before bringing up the necessary contact.

“Hello?” A familiar voice answered.

“Chie-senpai,” Naoto started, before heat spread across her face. “Sorry. Chie-san.” She coughed once. “Old habits die hard.”

“It’s cool, Naoto-kun,” Chie chuckled on the other end. “What’s up?” When Naoto hesitated, she continued. “Please don’t tell me that Yosuke’s over there; he promised me he’d go straight home tonight. I gave him dinner to share with Teddie, and everything.”

_If there was anything I would not blame Yosuke-san for allowing to drive him to drink,_ Naoto’s eyes widened, _it’s Chie-san’s cooking_.

And, it had somehow _improved_ since high school.

“No, Yosuke-san isn’t anywhere near the District,” she said, half-tempted to go to the spare room to check.

_The spare room…._

“Would you be so kind as to contact the others and change tomorrow’s plan slightly, to have us meet at ten at the Junes food court?” This time of the week, it should be relatively empty at that time. If it wasn’t, she could always ask to relocate or… or something.

“Sure thing,” Chie said. “It’s supposed to rain a little in the morning, but that should just give us full run of the place. Rise might be a little put off, though.”

“I think I’ll be able to more than appease Rise-san,” Naoto said. In fact, if she came out of tomorrow’s gathering with all her internal organs undisturbed, she’d be surprised. Add in a minor miracle, and she might even prevent a violation of her personal space altogether.

Rise was as enthusiastic as ever, after all.

“…Is something up, Naoto?” Chie eventually asked.

“Nothing that that warrants concern,” Naoto admitted. “At least, not tonight.” She paused. “I have to make another phone call; would you also please… not inform the others that the change was at my request?”

“Of course!” Chie sounded bright. “Yosuke owes me one, anyway. Well, he owes me a lot more than one, but….”

Naoto permitted herself a short laugh.

“Thank you, Chie-san.” Naoto shifted on the bed. “I shall see you there tomorrow.”

“See ya, Naoto-kun!” Chie’s voice was bright before the call ended.

Naoto took a long, deep breath, before bringing up her contact list again.

_After this one, I_ really _can’t turn back_.

“Konishi,” A half-dazed voice picked up.

“Naoki-kun?” Naoto asked. “This is Naoto. I did not wake you, did I?”

“Naoto-kun!” His voice was suddenly far more alert. “Nah, I was just chilling between shifts. What’s going on?”

“Would you… be willing to take a break during your shift later?”

“Of course!” He said. “I can head over now, if you need—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Naoto cut him off. “After dinnertime will suffice. Beyond that, whenever is convenient for you.”

“Is something wrong?” The worry in his voice was clear.

“Not at all,” Naoto forced herself to say firmly. “It’s… I can better explain when you arrive. Actually,” she thought of something, “there is one other thing.”

“Anything.”

“Would you be willing to bring a bottle of something with you? Anything should—no.” She caught herself. “Would you be willing to bring something non-alcoholic?”

“From a liquor store?” Naoki chuckled. “Yeah,” he said quickly, “I can do that.”

“I can repay you when—”

“Don’t worry about it, Naoto-kun,” Naoki stopped her. “I’ll be over in about two hours. That good, or…?”

“That should be excellent.” Kanji might be a little taken aback at the short notice, but Naoto had a feeling he’d get over it nearly instantly. “I will see you then.”

“All right. Later!”

Naoto put her phone down on the bed, forcing herself to leave it there as she stood back up and walked down the stairs to the kitchen again.

“Hey.” Kanji glanced over his shoulder at her from the stove. “That was quick.”

“I only needed to call Chie-san and Naoki-kun,” she admitted, rocking from one foot to the other.

“Huh?” Kanji half-turned to look at her for a moment, before the food demanded his attention again. “Why’d ya call them?”

Naoto smiled at his back.

“I needed to… arrange the next twenty-four hours or so.”

“I see.”

“On that note, Naoki-kun will be visiting in a few hours, after dinner.”

Kanji froze. She could almost see his confused expression as he tried to work that one out. He set the pan of food aside so it wouldn’t burn, as he turned completely around to face her.

He’d taken off his glasses, though they weren’t visible on the counters, table or anywhere else nearby. She could see the veins in his eyes, visibly irritated. Guilt jolted through her chest. It was enough she could absolve that now, she supposed.

“Why’s Naoki comin’ over?”

“Because I invited him,” Naoto said simply, willing herself to not smirk.

“Why?” Kanji raised one eyebrow.

_He’s already convinced himself there’s only one outcome, that he can’t even consider…._

“Because we already agreed that we would.” She paused, waiting to let the implication start to finally dawn on him.

“Huh?” His voice cracked.

“We are still intending to ask him to stand as godfather for our first child, yes?” Well, perhaps _godfather_ wasn’t quite the right word, but it was something her grandfather told her that her mother had intended on for her, when she was born. Before an accident had taken her mother’s childhood friend….

“Wait, what?” Kanji stared. “Y-ya mean? Ya mean yer… y-yer gonna—?”

She took a few steps to close the distance between them, placing one hand on his cheek.

“I mean to say,” she whispered, “that we’re going to be parents.”

“Really?” He breathed, gaping at her.

“Yes.”

Kanji wrapped both arms around her in a tight hug, laughing, before he lifted Naoto clear off the ground and spun once. After setting her back down, he nearly collapsed into her, his head pressed against her shoulder, arms still loosely holding her. She could feel his entire frame trembling against her.

“Are you all right, Kanji?” Naoto wasn’t sure she understood. Was he crying?

“This is,” he hiccupped softly, “the happiest day of my life.” He took a long, loud breath. “Thank you. Thank you.” He kept repeating those two words, breathing them against her shoulder.

“I did not make this decision solely for you,” Naoto said. When he looked up at her—cheeks stained from his joyous tears—she continued. “I also made it, in part, for myself.” _Because I know myself better now, and know that I will simply keep putting it off until I regret it if I don’t take this opportunity now._ “And,” she added aloud, running her hands through her husband’s black hair, “I did this for our child.”

“Our child,” he echoed the words, as if he couldn’t believe he was saying them. And, to be fair, she knew he probably couldn’t. He pressed his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes, unable to help herself from smiling. “Our child,” he repeated again.

He stiffened, sharply pulling back a short way.

“We’re gonna be parents.” He stared at her, his face sobering.

“Yes.” Naoto nodded.

“I’m gonna be a _father_.”

Kanji suddenly collapsed again, this time apparently passing out against her. She slowly slid to her knees as she tried in vain to hold him up. Eventually, she sat back against the kitchen floor, holding him against her and repeatedly running one hand through his hair.

_He should recover in a moment._

The cat seemed to appear out of nowhere as she leapt up onto the slight incline of Kanji’s back. Ruka kneaded his shirt for a moment, before curling up in it, looking straight at Naoto.

“I blame you,” she said dryly.

 

…

…

 

Naoki arrived a little over half an hour after they’d finished eating, a bottle of sparkling cider in one hand.

“Hey,” he said when Kanji opened the front door, “Naoto-kun asked me to—aaaagh!” He shouted as Kanji picked him up with both arms and carried him into the house. “What the hell, Kanji?” He yelled as the taller man ran into the living room. “Put me down!”

Kanji complied, dropping his friend onto the couch.

“Naoki!” He said loudly, grinning like an idiot. “It’s great ta see ya!”

“You’re in an awfully good mood,” Naoki said slowly, putting the bottle down on the low table in front of him. “I was just here the other day. Remember? Dinner?”

“Kanji,” Naoto started, entering from the kitchen and carrying three wine glasses. “Did you leave the front door open? Ruka probably shouldn’t be outside so soon after her last infection.”

“Right!” Kanji dashed out of the room again.

“Is he all right?” Naoki asked.

“Good evening, Naoki-kun,” Naoto said, placing the three glasses down on the table. “Yes, I would say he’s actually rather calm, all things considered. Thank you again for coming over on such short notice, and for bringing this.”

Kanji bounded back into the room, as Naoto opened the bottle and started pouring small amounts into each glass.

“Well,” Naoki looked back and forth, “of course, anything I can do. For either of you. I  mean… you know?” He paused.

Naoto sat down on the floor, just in front of the table, across from Naoki.

“We deeply appreciate everything you’ve done for us over the years,” Naoto willed her voice to remain stable. “You are… our closest and dearest friend. That is why we wanted you to be the first to know.” Well, other than Kanji’s mother, who seemed to always know everything, anyway.

_Damn hag’s always been weirdly perceptive,_ Kanji had shaken his head when she’d told him.

Naoki raised an eyebrow. He looked at Kanji—who was slowly sitting down next to Naoto and still had that dopey grin—then back to her.

“First to know what?” Naoki looked at the glasses of the sparkling drink then back to his friends. “What’s going… on…?” Naoto could see the implications start to sink in across his face.

“Naoki-kun, we’re… going to have a baby.”

Naoki blinked at her for a long moment.

“Oh!” His face finally lit up. “Oh, wow! C-congratulations!” He smiled.

_Delayed,_ Naoto’s detective mind noted, _but genuine_. That was a relief. She had been worried about how to tell him—deciding at the last moment to just be straightforward—scared of making him feel…. It was hard to describe, even to herself.

She knew that he had been scared when she and Kanji had first started dating. Regardless of any _other_ issues, she knew that he had been terrified that his two best friends, who had helped him truly enjoy his daily life again, after—well, he’d clearly been afraid back then that they would… well, not abandon him, per se. But that, in a lot of ways, he’d be left behind. They’d both agreed to make sure they did everything they could to prevent him from feeling that way.

In a lot of ways, he was also a part of their family, just as much as any member of the Team was, and they both wanted things to stay that way.

“We actually have something we’d like to ask you,” Naoto said, glancing at her husband. Kanji nodded once.

“Sure, anything.”

Naoto slid one glass towards him.

“Would you do us the immeasurable honor of… standing as our child’s godfather?”

“G-godfather?” Naoki stared again. “M-me?”

“Not in the traditional manner, of course, but more or less.” Naoto picked up her glass. “There’s no one else we’d rather have stand for our child, Naoki-kun.”

“I would….” Naoki cleared his throat, before smiling again. “I would be honored to stand as godfather for your child.” He looked back and forth between them, before raising his own glass. “To your first child,” he said. “May there be no child healthier or happier in this, or any other, world.”

After the short toast, Naoki chuckled.

“Non-alcoholic,” he said softly. “Of course. I get it, now.” He looked up at them. “Actually, would you consider something for me?”

Kanji exchanged a quick glance with Naoto.

“S-sure!”

“Would you consider asking Ch—uh, Satonaka-san to also stand as godmother? O-or, whatever the proper term would be?” He looked at the table, avoiding their eyes.

Was he blushing?

“Of course,” Naoto said softly. “Chie-san has also been a dear friend. We’d be more than happy to honor that request. Right, Kanji?”

“Huh? Y-yeah!” Kanji nodded sharply. “Yeah! We can ask ‘er tomorrow, after we tell the gang.” He paled. “Aw, shit.”

“What?” Naoto and Naoki asked in unison.

“We gotta tell Rise.” He looked at Naoto. “Callin’ it now; she’s gonna make some lewd joke an’ then Yukiko-san’s gonna start gigglin’ like a drunk hyena.”

Naoki chuckled.

“Rise-san means well,” Naoto said. Yet, she still hesitated.

They all looked at each other, a silent agreement.

_Let’s_ not _recall the incident at the marriage party._

The rest of the visit was cheerful, the three of them exchanging stories as they made some slow progress on the chilled cider. When Naoki left for the evening, he’d actually had a grin on his face—though, not as wide or silly as Kanji’s.

“I told ya he’d be excited,” Kanji said after their friend had gone.

“I did not disagree,” Naoto pointed out. “Though, I am relieved,” she admittedly softly.

Kanji looked at her.

“Is something wrong?” Naoto tilted her head at him.

Kanji simply shook his head, not saying a word. He ruffled her hair with one hand before gently cupping her cheek. He brought his other hand to her stomach. He smiled at her.

“Kanji.” Naoto found the expression rather… contagious.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short little update that I had half-done anyway. After finals are over, I have some commissions that are crazy-overdue to focus on (actually, I'll probably start on them today anyway), and then I can focus on these fics again.
> 
> (I wish I had a Naoto POV chapter to update with on her actual birthday, eheheh)

Yosuke frowned, fiddling with the lid and straw of his drink.

“Yosuke!” The all-too-familiar voice trilled as its owner approached his table from behind. “Are you on break already?”

The young man cringed, rubbing his forehead.

Maybe he shouldn’t have had that last glass of sake the night before.

One would think that—living with Teddie—he’d have learned that lesson by now.

Apparently, he still was slow to learn the important things.

Which was why he’d been drinking in the first place and— _damn_ it, he had to stop this. All of it.

Think about something else. He had to think about something else. Anything else.

Kanji had been acting weird. Naoto, too. And, then, she’d missed the other day. Something about a bug from the station?

Except, Kanji had seemed… upset, more than just concern.

It was unnerving, really. The two of them had ended up being the happy example of the group. Not that they didn’t probably have problems or fight—no relationship was ever without at least occasional bumps in the road—but they always seemed… stable.

He was probably reading too much into it, but….

Yosuke sighed.

Everything was fine. Or, maybe it was something simple; maybe the cat got hurt or something. Yosuke grinned to himself, remembering how Naoto had been more than irritated with Kanji for nearly a week after he’d taken the furball in off the street—which meant that _she’d_ actually taken it in, even though he’d promised to be the one to feed and do most of the active care—which had resulted in him spending more and more time at her apartment, and Yosuke suspected that may have led to their relationship starting when it did, if indirectly.

He needed to stop being so… negative about everything.

Even if it drowned out the pain.

“Took the day off,” Yosuke said. He took a long sip from his drink. The soda was already watered down by the melting ice. “Dad was buggin’ me to use some of my personal days. I never use ‘em.” _Between this hangover and Chie’s weird call last night, I figured today was as good as any to finally do it._

It bugged him that Chie wouldn’t tell him _why_ they needed to change their meetup place for today. And, he had a feeling that she might not really know, either. It had been a while since they’d been as close as they’d been in high school, especially during their third year, but he still caught some of her little tells.

He was no Naoto, of course, but it had helped during the times when he’d had to step in as leader during Yu’s absences.

He frowned again, before tossing the paper cup into the nearby trashcan.

“Hey!” Teddie barked, making Yosuke cringe again. “It’s Yuki-chan and Chie-chan!” He waved over to the girls at the opposite end of the food court. “Heeeeeeey! Yukiiiiii-chan!” He waved again, with both arms.

“Please, Ted,” Yosuke groaned, placing his head on the table. “Please. No shouting. Not today.”

“What’s wrong?” The blond human-appearing Shadow looked at him.

“I’ll explain later,” Yosuke brushed off the question as the girls approached the table.

“Yeah,” Chie said with a nod, “I knew you guys would be the first ones here.”

“Good morning!” Yukiko added brightly.

Chie was dressed in her police uniform, suggesting that she’d either just come off of a shift— _man, I really hope not. If she didn’t sleep last night, she’s not gonna be happy today, no matter what happens_ , Yosuke recalled a particularly painful day from their years at Yasogami together—or she had a shift right after the gang’s meet up was done. Yukiko, on the other hand, was dressed in a simple blue dress with a thin, red scarf, her hair pulled back in a single braid.

They both sat down across the table from Yosuke and Teddie, Chie taking her hat off and placing it on the surface before running one hand through her hair.  

“So,” Yosuke started, not bothering to lift his head, “what’s goin’ on?” He glanced at Chie. “Why’d you have us meet here?”

“I was wondering the same thing,” Yukiko added.

Chie shrugged.

“Dunno. Wasn’t my idea.”

“What?” Yosuke raised his head off of the table to look at her. “Whose idea was it?”

Chie shrugged again, looking around.

“At least it’s empty today.” She smiled. “Remember when we would hang out here and wish it would rain, if only to scare people away?”

“Well, yeah,” Yosuke said, “because we were talking about a murder investigation and all of that. We didn’t want people listening.”

“Especially since we didn’t know who the murderer was back then,” Yukiko agreed.

“How’s things at the inn?” Yosuke asked.

“Good!” Yukiko said cheerfully.

“Can we stay at the inn again soon?” Teddie asked cheerfully. “The whole Team?”

Yosuke flinched. Yukiko gave the bear a strained smile, while Chie looked away.

“Maybe someday,” Yukiko said simply.

“Okay!” Teddie, thankfully, seemed satisfied to leave it at that.

Naoto and Kanji were the next to arrive, after a long, awkward silence. Naoto was dressed in a rather loose dark blue sweater vest over a white shirt, her chest unbound; a few years ago, Yosuke would have been surprised to see her like that in public for long. Time had a way of changing things. Kanji, on the other hand, was dressed almost similar to the way he had as a teenager, regardless of his tamer peircings, hair, and the glasses: black jeans, a lavender shirt, and a sporty leather jacket. They’d barely greeted each other when Kanji pulled Yosuke aside.

“Hey,” he said in a low voice. “Uh, Naoki wanted ta give ya a heads up that ya might want ta stay away from the Shopping District t’night.”

“Thanks, Kanji,” Yosuke said, looking away. “Tell Naoki-kun, er….” _What honorific_ should _I use for him now? He never really corrects me, so…._ “Tell him I said thanks, too.”

“Tell ‘im yerself,” Kanji said flatly. “Dude’s worried about ya.”

Yosuke shrugged. He looked over to where Naoto stood next to Chie and Yukiko, the former speaking to her while she shook her head.

“So, uh,” Yosuke changed the subject. “Do you know why Chie’s having us meet here instead of…?”

Kanji looked away. Raindrops were still visible on the lenses of his glasses. The taller man scratched at the back of his neck with one hand.

“…Kinda,” he eventually admitted.

Yosuke narrowed his eyes.

“So, uh,” Kanji attempted to change the subject again, “I heard somethin’ ‘bout Ted gettin’ a promotion or…?”

Yosuke’s stomach churned.

“Yeah,” he tried to hide his discomfort at Kanji’s apparent secretiveness. “Dad’s been kinda nuts, lately. Still, I don’t think he’s crazy enough to give the bear _too_ much to do….”

So, then, it was probably Naoto who’d called Chie to set this change up; he wondered briefly if the two would be proud of his deductive skills. But, Naoto didn’t do things like that unless she had a reason. Usually something logical, or at least something she’d _argue_ was logical.

Which meant that she either had a problem with their original plan—highly unlikely, as he’d heard Chie say that she’d been looking forward to the group trip to Okina for a while—or she wanted to meet earlier in their old hangout to… tell them something?

What, though?

He glanced at Kanji, nodding when he noticed that the man was still speaking to him.

_She and Kanji are practically inseparable though…._ He narrowed his eyes again. At least, in the sense that Kanji still had a tendency to stay generally around her, even during the Team meetings, at least since the guys had stopped having their own get-togethers after….

_And Naoto-kun wasn’t here the other day. And yesterday Kanji looked really out of it. Kinda upset, too._

A dark realization punched through his chest.

_No_ , Yosuke told himself. _There’s no way they’re fighting or… or anything else. Sure, no relationship’s perfect, but damn, they’ve been the steady pair since practically the day they finally hooked up._ It was almost dependable, a sense of normalcy in Yosuke’s world that he could always count on. Aside from Teddie’s inability to operate the television remote.

Considering he had once been completely incapable of imagining either of them in a relationship, let alone with each other, it was probably a rather odd thing to cement his world around. But, there it was.

In some ways, he envied their relationship, their marriage, mostly the way they’d managed to stick together despite the difficulties and work it’d clearly taken, especially considering Naoto’s job.

Maybe it was weird of him, but the idea of anything ever coming between them _terrified_ him.

Eventually—after Yu and Rise had arrived with, thankfully, little ceremony—the whole gang took their seats around the table. Yosuke noted with some relief that Kanji and Naoto were at least still sitting next to each other.

_They do seem a little… off, though_ , he mused. _Nervous, mostly._

Actually, the way Kanji’s arms were trembling suggested that he was about ready to bolt. Or to do _something_. And Naoto looked a bit paler than normal, too.

_What the hell is going on?_

“What do you mean, Yosuke?” Chie asked as the others all looked at him.

_Shit, I said that out loud!_ Panic built in Yosuke’s chest.

“Uh….” Yosuke glanced at Kanji. _Please help me._

“Actually,” Naoto spoke up first, “I would like to apologize for having Chie-san rearrange our schedule for today by a minor amount, as well as for the deception in not scheduling it myself.”

“Has something happened?” Yu asked in his usual, calm, even voice.

Yosuke’s stomach churned again.

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Naoto’s voice and face—while still paler than normal—were too steady to give anything away.

Kanji, on the other hand, looked like he was about ready to shed his skin like a summer cicada.

“You’re okay, though, right, Naoto-kun?” Rise nearly leapt out of her seat.

“Yes, Rise-san,” Naoto said, visibly holding back a laugh. “All things considered, I am in general good health.”

“Naoto-kun,” Chie spoke up with a sigh. “Please, just tell us what’s going on. You had me up half the night, worried.”

“I apologize, Chie-san,” Naoto said with a gentle smile. The detective hesitated for a long moment, while the others looked at her expectantly. She glanced at her husband, who simply nodded, even his head trembling. “Y-you see, we’re….” Naoto cleared her throat, looking at the table. “Kanji and I are…. We’re…. I’m….” Yosuke caught a glimpse of Kanji’s hand, just barely visible from under the table as he took Naoto’s in his. Naoto took a deep breath, looking around the table, before focusing her gaze on Chie, across from her. “I am… pregnant.”

The others—Yosuke included—were silent for a split second as they stared, mutually needing a moment for the words to register.

“Really?” Rise actually _did_ leap to her feet.

Naoto recoiled slightly, a bit of tension clear in her face, but otherwise nodded with a smile.

Rise practically tackled Kanji to the side as she moved forward to wrap her arms around Naoto in an apparently extremely tight hug. Naoto made a light squeaking sound, causing Kanji to bark something incoherent.

“Oh my gosh!” Chie stood up, chuckling. “That’s so great, guys!”

“That’s wonderful!” Yukiko echoed her tone.

“I’m very happy for—Rise, please don’t suffocate Naoto-kun,” Yu interrupted himself, standing and placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder.

“This is perfect!” Rise practically sobbed into her friend’s shoulder.

“And I thought I was happy,” Kanji said with a nervous chuckle.

“R-Rise-san…” Naoto choked in the woman’s grip. “P-please…. You will… injure….”

“Oh!” Rise let go of her. “We totally have to go shopping! I know the best—!”

“Rise-san….” Naoto cut her off, but didn’t seem to know what else to say.

“I’m certain there’ll be plenty of time for that later,” Yu said calmly.

As the rest of the Team—minus Teddie, who remained sitting with an almost confused expression—gathered around the newly-expectant couple, Yosuke slowly stood up, staring at them.

Naoto… was pregnant? She and Kanji were… having a kid? It took a long moment for it to really hit him. Naoto and Kanji were _going to have a baby_.

Yosuke felt his face grow hot as that thought followed his usual train of logic to its natural conclusion.

He unintentionally caught Kanji’s eye.

_Damn it, don’t think like that, man. You don’t want those images in your head. For so many reasons…._

“Yosuke,” Teddie started quietly, not quite looking at him. “Where—?”

“Not now, Ted.”

“But—!”

“Later!” Yosuke hissed. He walked over to Kanji, while the girls all surrounded Naoto in their excitement. “H-hey, man.” Yosuke gave him a light tap on the arm with his fist. “Congratulations on the tiny human!” He chuckled.

“What?”

“Really, though,” Yosuke said in a more level tone, now that his heart rate and mind were calming down. “This really is great! I’m happy for you, both of you. You’re gonna be great parents, I know it.”

“Th-thanks,” Kanji stammered, rubbing at the back of his neck while looking at the ground. “I-I’m just… just happy that N-Naoto’s… cool w-with it… ya know?”

Yosuke blinked at him for a moment.

“Yeah.” Yosuke took a deep breath. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you guys, okay?”

Kanji looked at him, before giving Yosuke a lopsided smile.

“Thanks,” he repeated, in a much steadier voice.

“Congratulations.” Yu’s voice made the warmth that had been growing in Yosuke’s chest cool off slightly. “This is truly great news. It’ll be good, for the both of you, too.”

“Uh, th-thanks, man. I ain’t gonna lie, though. I’m probably almost as terrified as Naoto.”

Yosuke looked over at Naoto, who was raising a brow at Yukiko. Once again, she was laughing hysterically at something that likely hadn’t even been funny. Or, judging by the way the rest of the girls smiled at each other, it actually had been.

_Huh. She doesn’t_ look _scared. But, I guess she rarely ever does. Girl has a pretty crazy poker face._  

Teddie finally approached Kanji.

“You’re… going to have a baby?” He asked, as if he finally understood what was going on.

“T-technically,” Kanji said, “Naoto is, but yeah.”

_Please do not ask him._

“Like… how Sensei…?”

Yosuke willed himself not to frown. Not when he was standing _right next to_ —

“Y-yeah.”

Teddie looked at him for a long moment, before smiling.

“Good. I know how much you like kids, Kanji! I’m beary happy for you, and for Nao-kun!”

Kanji gave a nervous chuckle, before ruffling Teddie’s hair slightly with one hand.

“If you don’t…” Yu started, before clearing his throat. “How, uh, far along is she?”

“Doc says ’bout six to eight weeks.” Kanji looked at him.

“How long have you known?”

“Few days.”

Yu’s expression betrayed a mild amount of surprise.

“I’m surprised that Naoto-kun would have gone that long without noticing any symptoms.”

Kanji shrugged.

At the other side of the table, Rise was giving Naoto a smirk and a playful punch on the shoulder as she said something that made the detective’s face turn a deep red.

“R-Rise-san!” She yelped loudly.

Chie simply buried her face in one hand, while Yukiko burst out in another wave of laughter.

Yosuke had a feeling that Rise was tickling a sleeping tiger by making what were apparently lewd jokes to Naoto.

“She said she ain’t noticed much of anythin’ really… off until recently.” Kanji looked at the table. “Ma knew, though, ‘fore either of us did. Old bat’s _still_ insanely observant like that.”

Yu shrugged.

“Well,” Yosuke tried to think of something lighthearted to say, “if she isn’t getting, like, morning sickness all the time, or something, I guess I can understand Naoto-kun not noticing right away. We’re talking about a woman that gets so caught up in work that she forgets to eat.”

“Which is somethin’ she ain’t doing again for a long time,” Kanji said firmly. “Doc says she has ta eat at least—”

Kanji cut himself off when he noticed Naoto suddenly break from the others and dash towards a nearby trashcan. She retched into it.

“I’m so sorry.” Guilt built up in Yosuke’s gut. “I should just… not talk.”

Kanji didn’t seem to hear him, as he ran over to his spouse, the rest of the girls following shortly after.

Yosuke and Yu exchanged a glance, before the former looked away quickly.

“I’m glad for them,” Yu said in as level a tone as ever. “I’m confident that this will really be very good for them. I know Kanji has wanted kids for a few years.”

“What about Naoto-kun?” Yosuke asked, forcing himself to look at her instead of the man standing next to him. She retched one more time, Kanji holding a steadying grip on her shoulders from behind as she stood upright again. Chie held out what appeared to be a napkin for her, while Rise said something with a strained smile.

“Well, she told all of us after just a few days,” Yu pointed out. “Hopefully that means that she’s at least happy about it now, even if it wasn’t planned.”

_Knowing Naoto-kun_ , Yosuke thought to himself, _it probably wasn’t. They’d have at least known a little sooner if it had been._

He watched as she said something he couldn’t hear to Kanji. Kanji gave her a crooked grin, nodding once.

Yosuke couldn’t help but smile, too.

_Naoto-kun and Kanji are having a kid_ , it seemed to finally sink in. _After everything they’ve been through and lost…. Maybe he’s right. Maybe this_ is _exactly what they need._

“Yosuke….” Teddie started. “Where—?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Hmm?” Yu started, looking at Teddie.

“I promise, Ted, I’ll tell you tonight.” Yosuke appeased the bear before Yu could inquire further.

As awkward and painful as that conversation promised to be, Yosuke felt a warmth surge through his chest that he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time since he’d moved back to Inaba, he was very happy to be living in the small town, to be able to watch and help his friends during this new period of their lives.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things I should not have been working on lately: this. Thing I was working on anyway: this.
> 
> I have an alarming number of tabs open for pregnancy info for the research for this fic. Google miiiiiight think I'm actually pregnant now, hilariously. (Spoilers: I'm not)

“…And we’ll have to make sure that you have—!”

“Rise-san,” Naoto started for the umpteenth time. “We will have more than sufficient time to prepare for….” She still struggled to say it. It was a staggering thought, especially when her friend reacted with such enthusiasm. “We do not need to resolve every requirement today.”

“Naoto-kun,” Rise said with a slight pout, “has anyone ever told you that you can be a bit of a killjoy?”

Naoto shot Yosuke a glare.

“Why are you looking at me?” Yosuke grumbled, looking away. “That was high school, man.” He raised his voice slightly, grabbing Teddie by the shoulder as the bear attempted to stand. “Sit down, Ted. We’ll be there in a minute.”

“Have you even started thinking about names, yet?” Rise continued anyway. She’d done this the entire train ride so far, asking Naoto every question she could think of—at least, those that weren’t completely inappropriate to ask in public. Even if the Team was the only group on the train to Okina today.

“Rise-san,” Naoto rubbed her temple with her fingers. “We have only known about the pregnancy for a few days. That is hardly time to—”

“It is never too early to start discussing names!” Rise cut her off. “Yu and I worked for months before we settled on Takeshi’s.”

“I read it in the newspaper the morning she went into labor,” Yu said flatly, looking out the window.

Rise glared at her husband for a split moment, before smiling at Naoto again.

“Regardless!” Her tone remained cheerful. “It’s important! You want to make sure it’s meaningful, and special.”

Kanji coughed. Rise shot him a look.

“Or, should I remind you that you named your cat _blue flower_?” Rise stressed.

“She’s a cat,” Kanji retorted. “She really don’t care, ya know? And, I was sixteen.”

“Cats don’t care what sounds you use to call them or get their attention with,” Yu said calmly, looking out the window. “Just as long as they know what those sounds are. And you feed them. And do whatever else they want.”

“Yes, yes,” Rise said with a sigh. “I’ve been getting that speech since the time you tried to hide that pregnant cat from your uncle.”

“You tried ta what?” Kanji smiled. “I thought ya were smarter than ta try to hide stuff like that from Dojima-san!”

“I was sixteen.” Yu shot him a grin.

“My point is,” Rise attempted to recover the conversation, “that this is important, and I know you two. Naoto-kun will put it off as long as she can, and Kanji is….” She looked up at him.

“Ya know what?” Kanji started. “I don’t even care. I’m not gonna worry about the hard stuff today. I’m happy—we’re happy—and fer today, that’s enough fer me.”

“Still the same Moronji,” Rise finished with a grin.

“You still hung up on that—?”

Naoto looked over at Chie, hoping that the young officer would offer some sort of respite—even if it wouldn’t have been somewhat cruel to look to Yosuke, he was currently busy with keeping Teddie from experimenting with the weight limit of the passenger handrails, so he was clearly out of the question.

Chie, however, was currently asleep, her policewoman’s jacket folded in her lap and her head tilted to the side. Yukiko caught Naoto’s gaze, before glancing at Chie and smiling.

“Sorry,” she said in a whisper. “Chie had an early shift this morning.”

“Huh, what?” Chie asked in a groggy voice as she blinked awake again. “’M not ‘sleep,” she grumbled. “Jus’ chillin’ for a second.” She yawned, despite her words. “Damn kids thought that they could get out of school if they made it so the gate wouldn’t open.”

“How would they even manage that?” Yukiko asked.

“Apparently, with some sort of superglue.”

“That is completely asinine,” Naoto said. “Even for young teenagers.”

“You weren’t exactly the best person for ideas back then, either,” Rise reminded her.

“That’s exactly my point,” Naoto clarified. “I was certainly intelligent, but even still, I was enough of an imbecile to decide that it was a good—or, more accurately, good enough—idea to leave you with cryptic clues before intentionally getting myself kidnapped by someone we presumed to be a serial murderer.” She sighed. “Teenagers generally lack the experience necessary to make the best choices or plans. I do not miss that, not by the slightest amount.”

“Well, Detective Prince,” Rise smirked, “you have about thirteen years to get used to dealing with it again.”

Naoto looked at her.

What—oh.

Now that was terrifying.

Naoto tried to find something to say in reply, but her voice caught in her throat.

Fortunately, her pride was spared a further blow by the train coming to a halt at the Okina Station.

She used to skillfully duck out of the other girls’ attempts to drag her to Croco Fur—not that she disliked every style they carried, there was just too much pink and yellow there for her tastes—sometimes joining Kanji in sneaking off to a movie or some store or other—he was rather fond of the local craft shop—and sometimes joining Chie to the video game store, especially back when they were still in school.

Today, however, Naoto knew that there would be no escape. With her announcement literally hours old, there was no chance that any of her female friends were going to let her slip away. Which, honestly, she still didn’t understand. Chie had admitted, when Rise had been pregnant, that she didn’t really understand, either.

“It’s exciting,” Chie had said back then, “and that’s about all I understand.”

 _Perhaps I should be happier_ , Naoto mused to herself in the present. _They are my friends, and they are more than happy for me._

Yet….

Yet, she still wasn’t quite certain how she felt about being the center of attention.

Particularly when Rise’s taste in clothing was involved. Ever since they were teenagers, she’d always attempted to get Naoto interested in the strangest outfits; they were always frilly or extravagant in some manner, even when she’d gradually figured out that dresses and skirts weren’t really Naoto’s thing and probably never would be. It was always the brightest colors, the flashiest ties, the strangest pattern cloth for waistcoats or slacks—Rise’s fashion sense could be described only as loud.

Fitting, for an idol, Naoto supposed, but not something that provided for easy bonding between the two of them, despite both of their efforts.

Particularly when it involved Rise pressing a number of very large maternity clothes against Naoto in excited offering.

“Rise-san,” Naoto sighed for the umpteenth time that day. “I am not even half-way to the typical point in even the average pregnancy when one would require—!”

“But we’re here now!” Rise insisted. “We should at least look! Besides, like with names, I know you, Naoto-kun. You’ll get caught up in work or just put it off for whatever reason, and then you’ll be caught—”

“I am married to Kanji-kun,” Naoto cut her off for once. “With the textile shop, his additional tailoring business, and his own personal hobby with sewing and similar activities, I highly doubt I shall ever be in want of clothing of any sort.” She paused. “Or, have you forgotten who produced a rather sizable wardrobe for your own son?”

Rise hesitated, before placing the current shirt—a particularly bright blue, likely in an attempt to garner interest—back on the rack. She was quiet for a long moment.

Naoto caught her—though she likely wasn’t meant to—looking across the store at Yosuke, who was apparently attempting to explain to Teddie why he wasn’t interested in trying on the rather frilly dress in the Shadow’s hands. She then looked to Chie and Yukiko, who were reading a book they’d picked up on the way to Croco-Fur and exchanging various looks, mostly expressions of horror. Rise turned back to Naoto.

“Of course I haven’t forgotten. I have to pay you guys back somehow, right?”

“I do not believe Kanji-kun considers you indebted to him for his assistance,” Naoto said. “You are our friend, both of you, and he wanted to do everything he could to help.”

Rise smiled at her, before returning her attention to the rack again.

“Maybe you should try branching out from blue…” Rise trailed off, shuffling through the hanging shirts. “Though, you will also need new pants; I doubt even being pregnant will ever lead to you being comfortable in dresses or skirts.”

“I will… be back shortly,” Naoto took her slight lack of attention as an opportunity to duck out.

She was tempted to find Kanji—he was apparently looking at the modest collection of men’s clothes, having mentioned wanting to check the current styles and quality of the stitching and so forth—but she knew that she couldn’t hide from Rise for long that way. So, she dipped into the restroom in the back. It was quieter there, in any case, which allowed her some respite from the attention—which had admittedly become a bit overwhelming. Adjusting to the fact that she was pregnant—still a terrifying thought on its own—was difficult enough. She hadn’t predicted that she would have to also adjust to her friends knowing as well.

She didn’t even take to a stall—she didn’t need one—choosing to simply stand at the sink and give her face a quick, light splash with cold water. She gripped the edge of the sink for a long moment afterwards slowly exhaling.

This was all really happening.

Naoto had a feeling it would be months before she really had a complete handle on it all—if ever.

She closed her eyes and took another breath.

Well, she wasn’t nauseous right now. Which meant that she could probably cause a new distraction by suggesting they get lunch a little early—and Kanji had already proven the night before that he wasn’t going to let her miss a single meal, or for any of them to be less than substantial.

Naoto smiled to herself.

It would appear that Kanji already has stronger maternal instincts than I do.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening.

“Naoto-kun?” Chie’s voice heralded her entrance. “You okay? Kanji said….”

“I am fine, Chie-san.” Naoto released the sink to look at her. “I am simply….”

Chie nodded.

“I’m actually surprised you’ve held together so strongly for so long,” she admitted softly. “I figured you’d be terrified.”

Naoto felt the old instinct to deny any such emotion. She bit it back. Chie would know she was lying, after all, and she deserved the truth.

“I… am scared,” Naoto whispered. She looked down. “Quite.”

Chie gave another nod.

“It’s… big,” she said simply.

“That it… most certainly is,” Naoto hesitated. “To put it in the… barest of descriptions.”

“Does Kanji know?” Chie asked. “That you’re… scared?”

Naoto nodded.

“Of course. I… know better than to… conceal my emotions from him at this point.” She turned to the sink, pausing for a long minute to wash her hands. “It is…. I do not even know, for sure.”

“I know you weren’t… exactly planning on this.”

“It is not as if I had any sort of desire for the Shirogane line to end with me,” Naoto said. “It was simply… the idea of actually being a parent myself…. Needless to say, it had never exactly been a personal priority.” She sighed. “I am not so certain if I am even a… proper candidate for parenthood. Kanji is, that much has been perfectly transparent for years. But….”

“Hey,” Chie walked over to her, “you’re scared. That’s natural.”

“Rise-san did not present any fears during her pregnancy,” Naoto pointed out.

“Not to the group as a whole, no,” Chie admitted. She lowered her voice. “Yukiko told me that she was utterly terrified the whole time, though. And a lot of other things.”

Naoto blinked at her. What other things?

Then, a sharp realization pierced through the mental fog.

Of course.

Naoto was suddenly thankful that—regardless of how terrifying her situation was—there wasn’t any added tension within the Team because of it. On the contrary, it seemed to be universally welcomed as good news by the others.

It had not escaped her notice, despite her… distractions, that this morning had been the first time Yosuke and Yu had spoken directly to each other in over three years.

“Besides,” Chie continued, “I think you’re going to make a pretty great mom.”

Naoto looked away.

“You cannot know that for certain,” her voice was lower than ever. “I have not exactly demonstrated an aptitude with children. It took me months, if not years, to gain any real social ability with the Team. I—”

“Did you really think that Dojima-san would ask you to watch Nanako-chan so often because Kanji was usually with you?” Chie interrupted her. “I mean, I’m sure he didn’t hurt, but there’s a reason that she still comes to you for help, more than any of the rest of us—except maybe Yu-kun.”

Naoto looked at her again for a long moment.

“I… I suppose,” she eventually whispered. “You have always had a… better perception of my… interpersonal abilities than I possess.”

“We’re always our own worst critic,” Chie said with a shrug. “I guess we just see our own shortcomings as worse than they really are, because we carry them around with us all day.”

“Perhaps.” Naoto glanced at the sink, before looking back. “Chie-san,” she started, “I would… actually like to ask you something.”

“Sure,” Chie said, blinking.

“I know it is hardly an… ideal time or location, and that Kanji would likely prefer to be present. However, he has already agreed to the idea and we may not have a quiet moment alone for… some time.”

“Naoto-kun,” Chie sighed, “you’re a great friend, but you beat around the bush too much. What is it?”

“Would you… I would—we would—be honored if you would… stand as godmother,” Naoto eventually got out.

Chie stared for a long moment, before blinking.

“N-not in the traditional sense,” Naoto clarified. “It would be similar to being more formally recognized as a surrogate aunt of sorts to… to our child.” The words still felt foreign on her tongue.

“I… I would be honored to….” Chie trailed off. She shook her head. “I… wow. Me?” She looked at Naoto. “What about Naoki-kun?”

“He has already agreed to stand as godfather.”

“Oh?” Chie grinned. “You’re not trying to play matchmaker, are you, Naoto-kun?”

“Wh-what?” Naoto blinked. “No, not at all! Th-that is not o-our intent. You are both simply our closest friends, a-and—!”

“I know, Naoto-kun,” Chie cut her off with a gentle laugh. “I was kidding. If he wouldn’t be offended, then I would really be honored.”

“I am confident that he would not be offended in the least.” He’d been the one to suggest it, after all. Though, now Naoto wondered if Naoki did have any level of attraction to Chie. Aside from one instance, he’d kept pretty quiet about any crushes and the like he’d had since high school. 

Regardless, it wasn’t important for the time being.

“So,” Chie scratched at the back of her head, “uh, have you, uh… told your grandfather, yet?”

“Er.” Naoto looked away. “Kanji and I are going to visit this weekend. We decided it was best that we… inform him in person.”

“That’s… probably a good idea, yeah.”

Naoto frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Chie noticed.

“Kanji was… nervous when he first met Grampa, back when we… first started… dating.” She paused. “He nearly sliced his hand open at dinner, from how violently his arms were shaking.”

“Yeah,” Chie said, “but you guys were teenagers then. Surely he’s not as scared of him now?”

“He has… calmed down considerably, though he is still… mildly intimidated. But, considering his anxiety when we announced our… technical engagement several years ago, and the nervousness he demonstrated this morning—for simply telling the Team—I am worried that he—”

“Your grandpa’s not gonna kill him, though,” Chie said with a light laugh. After Naoto didn’t respond for a long moment, her tone sobered. “He’s… not going to, right?”

“Grampa will likely be genuinely happy; despite Kanji’s fears, he approved of him from the beginning, and never implied that he thought we were taking things… at the wrong pace.” She exhaled. “Regardless, that will have little meaning if Kanji manages to send himself into cardiac arrest from anxiety.”

“You’re… exaggerating, right?” Chie asked. “…Right?”

Naoto opened her mouth to speak, but didn’t get a sound out before Yukiko entered the bathroom.

“Is everything all right?” She asked.

“Yes, Yukiko-san,” Naoto said before Chie could reply.

“Rise-san is attempting to talk Kanji-kun into a rather… lacey shirt. She’s claiming that you will be willing to accept it; apparently it is a lovely shade of blue.”

“Pardon me,” Naoto gave Chie a slight nod. “I must attempt to rescue my husband from our mutual friend.”

“Good luck,” Chie said with a chuckle as Naoto left the bathroom.

 

…

…

 

“Kanji,” Naoto sighed under her breath, “what are you doing?”

Not that it wasn’t completely obvious that Kanji was attempting to straighten his tie, using the mirror on the back of the seat in front of him.

Naoto remembered the first time she’d brought him home to meet her grandfather. They’d only been dating for a little while back then, and Kanji had nearly gone into a full-blown panic the entire way to the estate. And for some time afterward, too.

He’d also insisted that the family car was actually a “short limo.” Naoto had smiled, but hadn’t argued; his nerves had clearly been past shot by that point.

He’d also been surprised back then when Naoto had greeted their driver, identifying him as the family assistant, Yakushiji. He’d apparently expected their family to have a chauffeur. Naoto had quietly explained that, shortly after her grandmother passed, not long after they’d taken her in, her grandfather had decided to cut back on a few of the staff members at the Estate. With just two left in the Shirogane family, he’d decided that, at the very least, they didn’t need a separate driver and a number of maids about the estate. He’d kept the old butler, who had been with the family since the elder Shirogane was a young man—being only a few years younger than the detective—a couple of housekeepers—he’d said he really only needed one, but he could afford the pair and it would allow them to have significantly easier workloads. Of course the cook had stayed on, and Yakushiji would likely sooner strip naked and run through the streets of Tokyo than leave the family he respected deeper than anything. 

In some ways, they had been a sort of family for Naoto, too. One that she had deprived herself of when she’d chosen to stand essentially on her own as a detective.

She wondered what they would think, when they learned….

“I give up,” Kanji sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I ain’t ever gonna get this thing ta lie straight.”

“It is straight, Kanji,” Naoto said softly. She placed her hand on his leg next to her, midway to the knee. “Relax.”

“How?” Kanji looked at her with wide eyes.

“Grampa likes you, Kanji.”

“I ain’t too sure he still will.”

“Why?” Naoto whispered. When he didn’t answer, just looking away, she lightly grabbed his tie. “Grampa is not archaic, Kanji. Relax. He has no reason to be upset.”

Granted, she was a little nervous as to what his reaction would be, but she knew that Kanji was far worse at the moment and needed her to be steady.

She presumed that this was some sort of unintentional preparation for the motherhood that lay ahead.

Though that word—motherhood—made her mask of resolve a little more difficult to wear convincingly.

Kanji attempted to say something, but only managed a few incoherent syllables. Naoto pulled gently on his tie, prompting him to look at her, just before she gave him a quick, chaste kiss.

“Everything is going to be fine,” she said.

“At least Yakushiji-san can’t hear us right now,” Kanji said quietly. “Dun wanna ruin it, ya know?” He gave a nervous grin.

“I understand entirely.” She adjusted his tie. “You look more than acceptable. Try to relax, all right? We’re happy, and that’s what will matter most, especially to Grampa. My parents were even younger than we are when I was born, after all.”

Kanji made another incoherent sound, but nodded once and stopped fidgeting with his appearance. He didn’t say anything else the rest of the way to the estate, not even when Naoto slipped her hand into his and squeezed gently.

He did manage to remain outwardly calm, at least—even if Naoto could tell just how tense he was under the surface—for the rest of the drive, until they reached the front doors of the estate and the foyer beyond them.

Naoto almost didn’t notice how he stiffened when they—and Yakushiji—were met there by the tall man, dressed—as always—in a simple, grey suit, his salt-and-pepper goatee and mustache neatly trimmed short, his like-colored hair combed back in a matter completely unashamed of the receding line. One hand was wrapped firmly around the handle of a solid, dark wood cane accented lightly with steel. He didn’t wear his hat; he never did in the estate—or in anyone else’s home, for that matter.

“Grampa!” Naoto greeted her grandfather warmly, walking forward to embrace him. There were only two people in this world she hugged willingly, and openly, like that.

For now, the words suddenly felt heavy in the back of her skull.

“Naoto-kun, it has been far too long,” her grandfather said softly as they released each other.

“It always is,” Naoto agreed.

And, as always, Kanji gave a bow—while far more nervously than normal, it was, at least, much less stiff and overly formal than it had been the first few times she’d brought him home. The elder Shirogane responded as he always did, with a light bow of his head and an amused—though friendly—smile.

“Of course, the short notice hasn’t prevented Sakai-san from quite possibly over-exerting himself over tonight’s dinner,” her grandfather said conversationally as he led them through the estate.

Kanji kept to Naoto’s opposite side as she walked alongside her grandfather, with Yakushiji just diagonally behind the elder Shirogane. Naoto decided to try to not bring attention to how her husband was practically trembling with every step; if her grandfather was not inclined to address it, then she had no desire to amplify his already-frayed nerves.

“I presume he’s made a particularly large amount of sashimi again?” Naoto asked with a smile. “He’s particularly fond of it, as I recall.”

“Not tonight, surprisingly enough,” he said. “For which, I am personally thankful; my stomach has difficulty with it as of late, despite my liking of his execution otherwise.”

Nor can mine, Naoto mused to herself. I had difficulty with raw meat to begin with. And the doctor said I should avoid it altogether for… the time being.

“Though,” he continued with a warm smile, “he did mention recalling how a certain young detective always refused to eat her natto….”

And she still hated the stuff. Naoto gave an embarrassed smile, regardless.

“I-I never really liked n-natto, e-either,” Kanji managed to stammer.

“Then, it would seem that Naoto-sama is well-matched,” Yakushiji replied softly.

“I would certainly hope so,” Naoto caught on to the gentle joke.

Kanji responded with an incoherent sound.

The elder Shirogane then changed the subject, asking after Naoto’s more recent cases, a conversation that settled and lasted through the rest of their journey into the kitchen and into the beginnings of their meal. Yakushiji had gracefully bowed out, despite her grandfather’s attempts to get him to join them—both very much as usual—leaving only the three of them, seated at the end of the long table in the otherwise quite empty-feeling dining hall.

Dinner did not consist of the thin slices of raw—or rare, on occasion—beef that Sakai was so fond of preparing. Instead, their evening rice was accompanied with a large variety of grilled vegetables and like-prepared chunks of chicken on short skewers. Well-made, as always, but a simple enough meal; Naoto suspected that the cook made the effort to not intimidate Kanji during these visits, at least not too often.

Not that Kanji seemed to have much of an appetite tonight, eating even slower than normal. His face was nearly as pale as his hair had been when he’d bleached it as a kid. His hands trembled so hard that he nearly dropped his chopsticks more than once.

None of which escaped the eye of the master detective.

“I believe, however,” Naoto ended her recount of her most recent case, “that I shall take a short reprieve for the time being, and focus primarily on assisting the Inaba Police with smaller cases.”

“That would likely be best for a short while,” her grandfather agreed with a nod. “You do not want to overwork yourself, particularly for the immediate future.”

“Grampa?” Naoto looked at him.

Certainly he hadn’t already deduced…?

“Kanji-kun,” the elder Shirogane addressed his grandson-in-law. “Are you quite all right, lad?”

“H-huh? Y-yeah! Wh-why woul-wouldn’ I be?”

Naoto’s grandfather smiled again.

“You are currently attempting to eat the wood skewer as opposed to the vegetables.”

“Huh?” Kanji repeated, looking at the small splinter of wood held between his chopsticks. “O-oh. I… I, uh.” His face went from pale to a dark shade of red almost instantaneously, and he looked away from the others, staring at the empty seat on his opposite side. “I… dunno.” He rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Grandfather?” Naoto dropped the informal name. “What…?”

“Between Kanji-kun’s excessive anxiety—which is greater than even the first time I met him, when you were teenagers—and the relative short notice of tonight’s visit—regardless of both of our variable schedules—it is hardly a difficult deduction, even were I not an experienced detective.” His smile widened. “Not to mention, while you have always consumed your meals at a rapid pace, they are also usually a noticeable percentage smaller than you have eaten tonight.”

Naoto felt her own face grow hot, and she glanced away for a moment. She hadn’t noticed the increased portions; Kanji had already started making her a bit more food per meal, even though the required increase in overall calories was still minimal at this point. She forced herself to return her grandfather’s gaze after the initial shock, however.

So much for a surprise.

“We were… planning on informing you after dinner,” Naoto admitted, “when we took coffee in the library, and….”

“I presumed so.” He was still smiling. That was a good sign. “However, I recall that caffeine is something that one typically avoids during such a time. In your case, I would suggest avoiding it altogether; you have consumed far too much since your adolescence.”

Kanji made a sound that Naoto presumed to be an agreement.

“Though, considering the observational skills that Tatsumi-san has always presented, I presume that you have had little luck in surprising her. I apologize for my directness and for potentially ruining that for the two of you.”

“I did not expect to truly surprise you,” Naoto admitted. “Though, I admit I had hoped you would have played along a bit longer.”

“Well, then I shall simply have to keep that in mind,” he said warmly. “In case there is a second opportunity for it.”

“…Wh-what jus’ happened?” Kanji looked lost.

“He has already worked it out, Kanji,” Naoto explained. “It would appear that truly nothing can escape his notice.”

Kanji made an anxious sound.

“Relax, son,” Shirogane’s voice held the edges of a chuckle. “I’m no over-protective father, or anything of the sort. Besides, not only have the two of you been together—and stable—for more than long enough, I have also always approved of you. Not,” he grinned, “that Naoto has ever required my approval for much in the past.”

“I have always wanted your approval,” Naoto said softly. “Even when it was needlessly childish of me to do so.”

“Well, then know that you have my full approval and support,” he said. “Though, you truly do not require it.” He paused. “So, when _are_ you due?”

“The doctor estimated somewhere between beginning to mid-November.”

“Oh?” Here, the elder Shirogane seemed surprised at last.

Naoto felt a slight discomfort creep over her shoulders at his unasked question.

When she’d been young, she’d been fortunate enough that her body had—if nothing else—been extremely regular. To the point that she could always predict its… cycles. Always to the day, and nearly to the hour. It had been a necessary blessing at first; she’d only just started to disguise her gender, and being able to track her body’s hormonal cycles prevented any… disasters.

Of course, that had been completely thrown out of balance when she’d been tossed into a TV. The flow of time in the Midnight Channel—at least, its effect on the human body—was… odd, to say the least. Between that and a number of other incidents… well, her body had never completely recovered. That cycle was forever disrupted, now apparently permanently irregular. So, one late—or missed—month here or there would escape her notice. After all, it wasn’t as if she was actively hiding her biological sex anymore.

Regardless, she still felt a bit guilty that it had taken until the second missed month for her to notice….

“It… would appear that I am still not… wholly observant… when it comes to myself.”

Shirogane exhaled slowly.

“I was simply afraid that you had been… well, afraid to inform me, of my opinion.”

“What would make you believe that I—that we—would ever hide something from you, particularly something like…?”

Shirogane nodded towards Kanji. Naoto looked at her husband.

He was staring at the far wall opposite him, attempting—and failing repeatedly—to pick up a vegetable in his chopsticks, his jaw set in a visible grind. His eye were wide and distant, face pale with the extremities beginning to shade a faint purple. He managed to pick up an entire skewer of chicken in his chopsticks—which he naturally dropped almost instantly.

“Kanji,” Naoto said softly, placing one hand—out of sight, under the table—against his knee. “It is all right.”

He looked at her, and then her grandfather.

“I am not condemning either of you, lad.” His voice was as calm and level as ever. “Besides, not many get the chance to live to see the birth of their great-grandchild.” He looked back and forth between them. “At least, their first great-grandchild,” he chuckled lightly.

Naoto focused her gaze on her now-empty plate, attempting to ignore the heat spreading across the bridge of her nose. He had a point, embarrassing though it was to hear him voice it, even in such an… indirect manner. While this was their first child, there was no guarantee it would be their only one; frankly, if things did not change—and rather drastically—there would certainly be later opportunities to… provide this child with a sibling.

“Yakushiji-san,” Shirogane raised his voice—though not his tone. “I would appreciate it if you chose to either join us or to not. Please do not eavesdrop.”

The dining hall’s wide double-doors opened to reveal two figures: one, a short man in a black suit—not wholly unlike the butler outfits that the Team had once purchased from Croco Fur at Rise’s suggestion for a teamwork-building exercise—with long, white hair held back in a loose ponytail and a sheepish expression. Yakushiji, on the other hand, was dressed in his own usual suit, though his shades were clasped in one hand while the other was attempting to hide his face, and the streams of tears that ran down it.

“Forgive us, Shirogane-san,” the butler said quietly.

“N-Naoto-sama,” Yakushiji started, before making a soft choking sound. “I’ve never been so happy in my entire life….” He started sobbing into the butler’s shoulder.

Naoto wondered if he’d been into her grandfather’s personal sake again, recalling the last time he’d—accidentally—gotten drunk.

“Pardon,” the butler said, avoiding their gaze as he slowly closed the doors shut again.

“I don’t think Yakushiji-san’s been this emotional since….” Shirogane trailed off as he visibly attempted to recall his memories.

“I believe the, er, wedding party was an… emotional affair for him,” Naoto supplied.

“This is true. However, I was more recalling his emotional state on the night of your own birth. Fitting, I suppose.”

“Maybe we shoul’ re-introduce him ta Rise,” Kanji suggested in a low tone.

“Don’t… you… dare!” Naoto nearly hissed at him. The very idea of Rise getting Yakushiji wrapped around her finger—it did not bear to think about.

“Well, at least you seem to have regathered your wits,” Shirogane spoke directly to Kanji.

“I…” Kanji looked at him, before looking away with a sheepish expression. He adjusted his tie. “Sorry, sir.”

“There is nothing to apologize for,” the older man said firmly. “On the contrary, you are certainly treating this with more severity than my son did.”

“Father did… what?” Naoto looked at her grandfather. This was the first she’d heard of any such thing. Not that she’d asked much about her parents and their lives together—especially after she’d accidentally learned as a teenager that her mother had been—

“Your father did not act with disrespect, mind. It was simply that he acted as if he and your mother had zero reason for concern—though, perhaps it was a defense mechanism. They were both young, younger than either of you—perhaps too young—and there was a… familial tension on your mother’s side. They’d never really forgiven her for marrying your father without their permission and moving from England to Japan, after all. Your grandmother certainly didn’t, at least.” He paused. “Have you spoken to her?”

“No,” Naoto admitted. “I was uncertain of… how…. She has never been a particularly….”

“Yes,” Shirogane muttered, half to himself. “Perhaps I shall make that call for you. Three decades is more than long enough to hold a grudge. She needs to decide whether or not she wishes to acknowledge her family as such.”

Naoto did not voice her agreement, merely nodding once.

“Well, perhaps now would be a good time for the two of you to retire for the evening.”

Naoto looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

Shirogane nodded towards Kanji again.

The young man’s face had finally regained some semblance of color to it, but he now looked as if he was going to pass out into his plate.

“Kanji…” Naoto started, gently pressing on hand against his arm. “Would you like to go back to our room for a minute?”

“Uh….” Kanji didn’t look like he was currently capable of coherent thought.

“I shall be spending the rest of my leisure time this evening in the library,” Shirogane said as he stood up. “Neither of you are under any pressure to join me, though you are each more than welcome to, as always.”

Naoto somehow managed to get both herself and her husband to stand as her grandfather approached them.

“I do wish to express how immensely happy and proud I am, for and of both of you.” He wrapped his arm around Naoto, pressing a kiss to the top of her head in a rare display of open affection. “Do let me know of any manner in which I can lend my assistance.” He released her.

“Of course,” Naoto said softly, glancing away.

Shirogane turned to Kanji, who blinked at the elder man for a moment when he offered his hand. Stunned, Kanji gradually took it in his own shaking hand. He stiffened when Shirogane clasped his other hand around it in a firm shake, before giving a short bow, deeper than any Kanji had ever witnessed the man give—he normally only ever gave a slight bow of his head, usually being the one of higher social standing.

Kanji made another incoherent sound, while Naoto blinked wordlessly, the both of them watching as the older man vanished through the nearby door and out of sight. After a long moment, Naoto looked at Kanji, who appeared to be caught in some sort of trance. She smiled softly, gently taking his arm and wrapping it around her to guide him out of the room and down the hall.

She mostly made their way to her old room by pure muscle memory. She’d made this trek from the dining hall to the small bedroom—small, at least, compared to the others in the estate—countless times from the day she’d been taken in after her parents….

Naoto sighed, as she guided her husband into the room.

Once again, she found herself wishing her parents were still around, still able to give her advice and guidance and love—though, not for the reasons she normally had in the past.

She deposited Kanji onto the bed, which he collapsed back on, still held in his tranquil trance.

Her room seemed to be a permanent time capsule to her childhood. The series of bookcases—filled less with her personal collection of novels which would be more or less in place in the library, and more with her respectable collection of DVDs—and a small number of old VHS tapes—manga, imported western comic books kept in magazine holders, and several selections of prose novels that would be out of place with her grandfather’s collection, their titles written in various languages—though mostly in Japanese or English. The couple of posters—including one of a group shot from an older Featherman incarnation, and a newer Featherman group signed by its lead actress—a woman only a few years older than Naoto, and a fellow Persona user. The chest of drawers, the dark wooden frame carved with elegant detail. The four-poster with pale and dark blue bedding and drapes—though there were more recent additions of a couple of purple-covered pillows over the past few years.

Kanji inhaled sharply when Naoto sat down on the bed—which, frankly, was only just large enough to comfortably fit the both of them—next to him. He pushed himself onto his elbows and looked up at her.

“What… just happened?” He blinked at her.

She smiled, pulling carefully at his tie, undoing the knot and draping the loose length of fabric limply around his shoulders.

“Grampa deduced it on his own, as I should have predicted.”

“Oh.”

“He also is happy for us, as I had predicted, and is not angry at you. On the contrary, I’ve never witnessed him bow to another person like that… well, I’ve never witnessed him do that, to be honest.”

Kanji made another incoherent sound.

“Are you all right?”

“He… he ain’t mad?” Kanji asked after a long moment.

“Not at all. He’s actually apparently excited at the prospect of seeing at least one great-grandchild enter this world.” She paused, running her hand through his hair. “Though, I would advise avoiding Yakushiji-san for the night; he appeared to be a… blubbering mess, to use the phrase. He may attempt to hug you, if the marriage party was any indication.”

“Thought that was ‘cause Rise got ‘im drunk.”

“Perhaps it was.” Naoto sighed. “Either way, I thought I should warn you.”

Kanji slowly shifted himself into a proper sitting position, half-behind his spouse, his arms loosely wrapped around her waist. He didn’t seem to otherwise react as she continued to run her hand through his hair; normally he’d eventually tease her that she was messing up his combing, or something.

“So,” he spoke after a long silence, “he’s really happy, then?”

“Quite,” she said. “You saw that bow. I’ve never seen him….”

“Wha’s it mean?” Kanji asked. “I ain’t ever been able ta read him ta start with, and now….”

“I’m not certain,” she admitted. “This will require further investigation to formulate theories.”

She heard Kanji chuckle—a sound that eased a tension she hadn’t even realized had been building in her shoulders—as he wrapped his arms closer around her, his hands pressing gently against her stomach.

“Ya hear that?” He said, the soft laugh still clear in his voice. “Yer ma’s a giant detective nerd, twenty-four seven.”

A strange feeling—not quite a chill—ran up Naoto’s spine.

“Kanji….” Naoto started. “I… I’m fairly certain that… the… sense of hearing hasn’t fully developed, yet.” Or… had it?

“Tell me about ‘em,” Kanji breathed in her ear.

As if he hadn’t already read through the books and pamphlets half a dozen times each—Naoto mused on how he’d joked that he’d wished he’d been so dedicated in high school. He probably knew the stages of development better than she did, by now.

“Well,” Naoto fought down the bundle of nerves building in the back of her throat. “We’re around eight weeks, so it may be considered a fetus now, depending on which expert you ask. Its various systems have likely all exist by now—though in the most basic levels, and they will continue to develop. Its arms and legs are separate from the body now, and its fingers are probably visible, too, though still webbed. It has—they have a heartbeat now, which the doctors will be able to detect with the proper instruments, and they’re starting to develop bones, as well.” She exhaled slowly. She didn’t have to look at Kanji to know the exact, dopey grin he was wearing at that moment. “Whether it’s a fetus or embryo, it is also moving, and constantly so, though I will likely be unable to feel anything until around the twentieth week.”

Kanji inhaled.

“What is it?”

“…Amazing,” Kanji eventually settled on. “Yer amazing. They’re amazing. Yer both the most amazin’ parts a’ my life.” He pressed the side of his face against hers. “Really.”

“You… flatter me too much,” Naoto hesitated. “It is nothing that hasn’t been accomplished by countless others as many times throughout the history of life itself.”

“So?” Kanji asked. “No one said ya had ta do this. And ya still are. Ya want this, right?”

Naoto inhaled and exhaled, slow and deep.

“Naoto?”

“Yes. I do. I promise you, I do.” It was simply… terrifying to think about, to be frank. A child. A person. By the end of the year, there would be a new person that _hadn’t existed before_. A baby. _Their_ child.

What if she messed up?

No. She had to not think like that. Sure, there was ample opportunity to mess up. Every parent had that. But, they had more than enough on their side, to help them. Their friends would always support them—their child wasn’t even viable yet, the pregnancy hardly announced, and it already had two godparents to stand for it—and Kanji’s mother and Naoto’s grandfather had both already told them that they were happy to help however they could. Naoto suspected that even Dojima would be willing to part with some advice now and then.

And, like with everything else, they had each other.

Perhaps that was the most important thing; they had each other, and neither of them was going anywhere. Naoto was certain of it.

Their families had suffered enough loss. It was time for both of them to come together without that pain.

Perhaps sensing the tension in her emotions, Kanji pressed a kiss against the back of her head.

“I love you,” he nearly whispered. He tightened his arms around her. “Both of ya.”

Naoto’s lungs froze.

She pressed her hand against Kanji’s opposite cheek.

After a long moment, he released her, falling back onto the bed again.

“Though… I think I’m gonna pass out.”

Naoto smiled.

“Why don’t you follow Grampa’s suggestion and turn in early? You’ve had a… tense couple of hours. I’ll join you shortly.” She stood up.

“Where’re ya goin’?” Kanji asked, not bothering to sit back up.

“I think I’ll join Grampa for a short while in the library,” she said simply. “I have the feeling he’ll be mildly disappointed if I do not.”

“If tha’s what ya want,” Kanji said, closing his eyes, “I ain’t gonna complain. Ya might not be able ta move me from this spot when ya get back, though.”

“Do not forget,” Naoto couldn’t help but smile, “that I am going to be a mother soon; I am going to have to learn how to make anything and everything move according to my will.”

“Nah,” Kanji’s voice was already tinted with slumber. “Tha’s wha ya got me fer….” His breathing began to slowly taper off to a stable rhythm.

Naoto watched for a moment, before carefully slipping out of the room.

She exhaled again, longer than before, as she started the brisk trek to the estate library.

Perhaps the cook would be willing to bring them hot chocolate—she should be able to indulge in a small serving—and her grandfather would be equally willing to answer some questions about her parents. Questions she’d never asked before.

Questions she’d never imagined she’d have need to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, Naoki does not have a crush on Chie here. Or vice versa. I have enough crack!ships thanks to Persona, let's not add more. 
> 
> Also, the pregnant cat thing Yu mentioned maaaaaaay be a nod to this awesome artist's comic: imalesbian-canyoulesbian.tumblr.com/post/119044230194  
> [spoilers: it totally is, this fandom's members constantly influence me]


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